


Fangs Sharpened

by Drake



Category: Deus Ex (Video Games), Deus Ex: Human Revolution, Deus Ex: Mankind Divided
Genre: F/M, M/M, Vampires
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-27
Updated: 2019-11-28
Packaged: 2020-10-29 01:07:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 21,137
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20788058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Drake/pseuds/Drake
Summary: When Adam is grievously injured in the attack on Sarif HQ, Sarif moves to immediately and over-extensively aug him - without realizing his chief of security is a vampire.





	1. Eyes in a Jar

**Author's Note:**

> I've been waiting and waiting and waiting to use this song for a chapter or a fic and HERE WE FINALLY GO: [The Mystic - Adam Jensen ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rRUOGd_9orc) . Yes. 
> 
> Anyway! for all my 'she watched the sky' readers, I'll be doing it for nano again this year! Just taking a quick break to actually put to paper a lil bit of my (and Ghrelt's) vampire au so I don't somehow lose it haha

Sarif had, perhaps, miscalculated.

This didn't occur to him, not while they were operating, not while they tried to restart Adam's heart, or as they installed arms and legs and eyes.

_That's_ when he noticed. When they removed his natural eyes and Sarif demanded to see them before the LIMB staff hauled the parts away for storage. For science. One of the younger surgeons brought him the case, and he glanced thoughtfully at it. And then stilled. Were Adam's eyes ruby before? That wasn't something that occurred through trauma.

And then they moved.

Sarif's eyes widened, and he told the LIMB staff member to leave them, sounding almost composed. He couldn't stop looking at them. Trying to confirm that what he was seeing is what was before him.

What the hell had he just gotten himself into?

\---

"What the_ fuck_ did you do to me?!" Adam shouts at Sarif the first time he wakes. The Hunger gnawing through his core, lurching upright and feeling_ heavy_.

"Calm down, son," Sarif says, though Adam can't tell if he's considering stepping forward to put a condescending hand on his shoulder or back the hell away. "We did what we had to to save your life."

"When exactly did you make that decision?" Adam bites back, his tone barely restrained. "what made you think you had any right to take my legs, my arms, my_ eyes_?"

"you signed a contract, Adam. I had to make an executive decision to equip you with what you need."

Adam sees red, and he's not sure if that's because he's seeing _double_ or because Sarif is pissing him off. It's probably both. "with what_ I_ need, or with what _you_ wanted to show off?"

It's not a question. He knows the answer. Shoves the paper-thin hospital blanket off of his- his startlingly black and gold legs, and gets up. Staggers, because he has new legs he _didn't ask for_.

“Adam, really, you shouldn’t exert yourself- give the augs time-“ Sarif says, and he actually does take a step closer, surprisingly.

“No,” Adam answers, his lip curling, a fang poking out. A threat, something he’d have never done to his boss before. Well. His boss didn’t seem to understand boundaries, so he was done playing nice.

Sarif puts both hands up, placating, but even the dissonance between his natural hand and his overly-filigreed aug hand angers Adam. “Son…”

“_Don’t_,” Adam says, instead of what he _wants_ to say, which is ‘I’m goddamn older than you.’ But he’s still under some assumption that Sarif can’t keep his mouth shut long enough not to ask questions, and if he’d gotten an idea of what Adam really was, he’d have said something. Maybe he’s trying to goad him into it so he can stop hiding.

Sarif doesn’t take the bait though, and Adam leans on the edge of the bed – somehow he doesn’t crush it, which apparently surprises Sarif, whose gaze drift down to catch the movement – and he hobbles past him brusquely. Perk of having ridiculous strength before – he was used to the fragility with which a lot of human objects were made.

Except, apparently, the structure of the rebar he’d been impaled on.

“Adam-!”

“What, Sarif,” Adam says, only half-turning.

Sarif seems to deflate, just a touch. “Nothing, son. Get some rest. Take as long as you need.”

\---

‘As long as he needed’ ended up being cut short three months later, when Sarif’s patience ran out. Something about needing to hunt down whoever thought they could attack his company, and how Adam is the only one equipped to do that.

Whose fault was that?

Yeah. So Adam’s headed back in, walking past his old office and ignoring the looks cast his way, the surprise of old coworkers seeing him so changed. None of them approaching him.

Until he walks past Pritchard’s office. He doesn’t notice it, not actively, until there’s a hand reaching out of the room and snagging him by the back of his coat. Adam resists for half a breath, and the pull grows stronger, threatening to rip the fabric, and then he’s dragged in and the door shut behind them both, locking automatically.

“Do you know _how many people_ now know what you are?” Pritchard hisses, letting go of his jacket as soon as he’s inside, like it’s burned him.

“Yeah, Pritchard, because I called an entire LIMB clinic out for a candlelit dinner and told them,” Adam answers, voice as dry as a bone.

“I don’t give a shit what you do on your time until it endangers what _I _do.”

“Rest assured, every action I take keeps in mind your comfort, Francis,” Adam answers, crossing his arms. Still too heavy, too metal, too…unnatural. He doesn’t miss the irony in that.

“If anyone here finds out, I’m ripping _your_ throat out first,” Pritchard growls, but the door behind Adam unlocks and slides open.

Adam is unimpressed. He says a simple, “Sure Pritchard. Whatever helps you sleep at night,” and turns around to walk back out.

He’s not like Pritchard. Doesn’t have a supply of donated bags in a freezer to feed himself. And he’s suddenly around a lot more people than he has been in months. He can feel it. The hunger, gnawing through his alloy ribs. 

He’ll have to cope, a little longer.

Until Sarif sends him after a company whose hired thugs try to kill him, and then he’ll at least have a source. Hopefully soon.

He heads up to the top floor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> vampires!! I have...many aus. so many.... I'm quite fond of this one though, haha.


	2. Millennia honed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vaclav reminisces, makes time for only one person.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ohoho an 11-hour flight left me with some creativity before I passed out for what sleep I could
> 
> Gets a lil’ steamy in here, though, just FYI c;

Humans were so _interesting_. So uniquely driven to self-destruction in a way matched only by fledgling vampires. At the same time, so cautious and fearful. Walking paradoxes.

Vaclav no longer remembers how that feels. What the threat of looming death, a promise of the end coming without any warning feels like. He’s been alive, well..._around_, for so long, that all he really knows is this. What is one to remember of being human when they have memory of the day humanity invented the written word?

And what a leap that had been for them! Stories given permanence, made as immortal as Vaclav himself, as long as they were preserved. Fresh carving, fresh ink, a willing audience to carry the tradition on were all that were required. He is much the same, though the _ink_ on which Vaclav ran was far sweeter, far redder.

Perhaps that is why he collected books. Why, when writing left paper and became text on a screen, he _stayed_ with books. There was a care, a love to each worn spine that couldn’t ever be conveyed on a tablet, not one made of metal and circuitry anyway. At least stone showed the marks of countless hands who had held it.

He doesn’t notice he’s stopped his stroll through the library of the mansion, a fingertip poised on the broken, aching spine of one particularly old book. The dust motes floating in the room move faster than he, paused in reminiscence.

It takes a voice behind his ear, the press of lips to the back of his neck, a soft, “Hello, love,” to pull him back.

And back he goes, leaning into the solid, warm chest of his dearest. “Ivan,” Vaclav says, taking his hand off the book and turning to curl it over Ivan’s alloy arm, his thumb running over it. Metal against metal. The thing he had created to save the one person who mattered, the only one he had left. The one he refused to lose.

“Tell me you haven’t been in here since I left,” Ivan says, a fond smile on his face despite his chiding tone.

“That depends on when you left,” Vaclav answers with a playful grin.

“I get the feeling I don’t want to know the answer to that.” Ivan cups Vaclav’s cheek, thumb under his dark, dark eyes. As empty as the void, consuming all light that went into them. Ivan’s own are close, closer than any other vampires they know, but the barest hint of burgundy is still visible at the right angle, with the right light.

“Best not,” Vaclav agrees, tilting into the touch. “Were you out hunting?” he asks, inhaling slow. Ivan smells like he’s fed. Fresh and warm and _delicious_.

“I was,” Ivan says, stepping closer, and Vaclav can _feel _it now, too. “Would you like to feed, my love?”

Vaclav has grown to hate the taste of human blood. Much as he needs it, with every century that passes it tastes more sour, bitter. Biting, as if demanding he cease consuming it. But Ivan still hunts despite that, and hunts enough for them both. And oh, how sweet, how _smooth_ Ivan tastes for him. Maddening, for any vampire younger. A mind-addling addiction, were one to try. But for Vaclav, it is a delicacy.

“Very much, yes,” he answers, sliding a hand down to settle on Ivan’s hip, to tug him along as Vaclav walks backwards for the nearest lounger. It sits by the fireplace which is only lit for special occasions, long and wide enough for the both of them no matter what mood they were in. The amount of time and presence it has seen is second only to Vaclav’s workshop.

So Vaclav doesn’t need to look over his shoulder as he backs up into the couch, letting his knees hit it and then falling backwards to sit, pulling Ivan down on top of him.

Ivan’s strider legs clank softly as he follows, straddling his husband, pressing close and leaning in to kiss him before he’s otherwise occupied. Vaclav hums, pleased, and momentarily distracted as he takes his time kissing Ivan thoroughly back. As if he’d been gone for weeks instead of hours.

Ivan is more than happy to oblige, his hands moving to pull open Vaclav’s precious vest, and then unbutton the shirt beneath. Vaclav doesn’t move back far enough to articulate a question, so he settles for an inquisitive sound into Ivan’s mouth, and then moves to rid Ivan of his shirt as well.

Which, unfortunately, results in their lips parting as Vaclav pushes the shirt up his chest, guiding his arms up and pulling it off his head. The ancient vampire leans in, then, pressing a swift kiss to Ivan’s cheek and working his way down, a line of touch across his jaw and over his throat. Before finally settling at the point of his pulse, fueled by stolen blood, where Vaclav inhales deep, nuzzling the spot.

Ivan can feel the barest brush of fangs everywhere Vaclav’s lips have been, and the shiver of anticipation shoots through him, from alloy fingertips to alloy blades.

Vaclav only smiles against his skin, a hand splaying over Ivan’s heart, and parts his lips, a moment of suspense. And sinks his fangs into Ivan’s throat.

The sound his love makes as he’s bitten into is exquisite, and Vaclav digs his fingers in, just slightly indenting the skin over Ivan’s heart as he drinks, the flood of sweet blood overwhelming. He looks up at Ivan out of the corner of his eye, as much as he can while he drinks, and his lips quirk upward to see the expression of pure bliss on his husband’s face. Feel the way his hips roll into Vaclav’s, slow and unconscious.

He encourages it with a roll upward of his own, grinning at Ivan’s sharp inhale. At the way he starts to _purposefully_ move, to press himself to Vaclav until the space between them no longer exists. Vaclav slows the feed, pulls with desire and need and _love_, and the sweet moan in his ear is more reward than the smooth nectar he drinks.

This. This is what he lives for. _Who _he lives for. Without Ivan, he would have no purpose. No reason to carry onward, to keep moving, to keep living. But Ivan keeps him here. Makes eternity worth it with every breath they share, every moment spent together. Every desecration of their mansion. He would not ask for anything else in this life, anything that wasn’t Ivan.

And he knows this. Vaclav makes it very clear, in the rumbling, inhuman _purr _against his throat, in his hands roaming his chest, in his hips jerking up to meet him. Friction, heat and need, the feed driving them both.

Who is Vaclav to refuse?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you’ve all been well! Idk if this story will be concrete, I think it’s gonna end up more episodic, but we’ll see if it runs away with me. Better be handled by November though... LOL


	3. Crash and Burn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A human falls into their laps.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Helloooo friends! More nano means more writing! unfortunately I'm a little...discouraged with phoenix atm, so! that means you get more vampires.
> 
> Have I mentioned that this au is so much more flavorful thanks to Ghrelt's lovely voice? Particularly Ivan, so you've got her to thank if you like him, haha. 
> 
> Enjoy!

The world is constantly changing, especially since the invention of the internet. Development, technology, it all boomed exponentially upward at that. And Vaclav’s introduction of augs into the world certainly started another explosion. But he couldn’t keep them to himself, not after he saw how they helped Ivan. How he changed his life, fixed what was taken by hunters who paid for their mistake with everything.

So things are more interesting now than they were in the eighteenth century, and sometimes Vaclav actually lets the news stay on, watching to see what the humans prioritize as news. He has a game with Ivan out of it, betting which breaking stories actually had a vampire or some other supernatural creature behind them.

Vaclav’s currently in the lead, but he posits that to his longer experience. And in the last decade, Ivan has done a terrifying amount of catching up. He won’t be in the lead for much longer, of that he’s sure.

The television flashes with an alert, and then the dull story about the latest summit of world leaders switches to a local breaking news of a plane that’s crashed in the woods, just outside the Detroit city limits. Vaclav isn’t quite paying attention, but Ivan’s hand sets on the back of his chair in the dining room.

“That’s here, isn’t it?” he asks, gaze on the screen.

“mmh?” Vaclav asks, looking up belatedly.

“That crash. Those are our woods.” Ivan’s watching it carefully now, plotting out where that helicopter is viewing from, the angle it has.

“So they are,” Vaclav agrees, moving to stand. “Think we should go out and deal with it?”

No one would come close to their house. Vampires knew better, the terror that sank right through their bones kept all of them away, far from their woods. They could feel just how ancient he and Ivan were, and all would rather live another day than die a useless death. And humans, though nowhere near so observant, felt a chill right to their core. Many had seen enough horror movies to take that instinct and stay far away from an old mansion in the woods.

“Could,” he shrugs. “I suppose we’ve had no surprises lately,” he adds, warming to the idea. And what could anyone ask for but a surprise delivered right to their front porch? Or…front trees. Regardless.

“Let’s, then,” Ivan says, offering his arm. Vaclav takes it, and they stride out and into the woods.

\----

As soon as they step out, into the brisk evening air, Vaclav stills. Breathing in the smells of the wood. The smoke, acrid and burning down the back of his throat. No flesh, though. He’s well-familiar with that particular smell.

“It wasn’t an unmanned plane, was it,” Vaclav muses.

“No. So the pilot survived,” Ivan agrees. “Rather, the pilot didn’t die in the wreck. They could very well have not made it to ground in one piece.”

“Or one compressed piece,” Vaclav adds.

“Or that,” Ivan laughs. “I don’t smell blood, but that could be the smoke hiding it.”

It very well could. Vaclav looks around, but doesn’t see any sign of disturbed wood, and shrugs. “Best to start at the wreck, then?” they wouldn’t get a better look any closer. And he’s curious.

Perhaps it helps that they have so little to fear, now. Save for the other ancients, of which none are in the States – or at least, hadn’t been, last he knew. The only real threat was the coven that called themselves the Illuminati. Vaclav’s sure they didn’t come up with it, the stodgy old bastards weren’t nearly so clever. Instead, they took the name given by their human supplicants.

Back when they’d been the Knights, the surrounding organization of devoted served mostly as a food source and information network. The artifacts they hoarded were a source of wealth, and, as some insisted, magic.

There were plenty of rumors, wild theories, conspiracies about who actually belonged to the Illuminati. Always the latest celebrity of the month, and some played into it, adding triangles to their music or films just to get the extra notoriety. The only one that got perhaps close was the theory that Eliza Cassan, figurehead of Picus, was on their side. But she wasn’t a vampire, or if she was, she was a newblood. Vaclav knew the actual members, though he’s certain they rather he didn’t.

They know better than to stir up the trouble to come and hunt him down, and they certainly wouldn’t be able to manage it without casualties. Not a one of them wanted to give up immortality to kill a nuisance. Especially since Vaclav kept his head down, making no move to interfere with their machinations. The last time he’d shown up on any radar was Chernobyl, and that was less than ideal. He’d almost lost everything there. Almost lost Ivan. And let his rage take hold, instead.

But that was long past, and they were as safe as they could be, here.

“Why not,” Ivan says with a shrug, walking with him off the porch and into the woods.

It’s been long enough since they’d taken a walk together, regardless. It would be nice to have a few moments together in the fresh air. No need to hunt, nothing but idle curiosity driving them.

An immortal had to find it where they could.

\---

She should’ve known today would’ve been bad when her morning coffee ended up decaf. Just a little sign from the winds that she’d be unlucky. Not that Malik believed in any of that.

But maybe she should, considering her bird’s engines went out, one and _then_ the other. She’d call it sabotage, but she checked it over before taking off. The stroke of bad luck seems egregious, but she doesn’t have time to think about it as her plane screams downward.

“Sorry, girl,” she says, pressing a kiss to two fingers and touching them to her console. And then she unbuckles, gets up, and runs for the back cargo door, grabbing a chute on the way. Straps it on, pops the doors, and jumps.

And has to watch her poor bird crash into the forest and catch fire as she slowly floats down. It’s an old forest, the trees higher than she expects. The wind’s fighting her, and she can’t spot a clearing big enough to let down in with enough space for her to end in a running drop.

Of course. Because today is the day from hell, right as she steers herself into a small lane of empty space she can land in-

Her chute snags. And her drift down turns into a sudden yank as she’s thrown back into a tree, the harness digging sharply into her, bruising. She can’t help the yell of pain as she swings, dangling from a branch twenty feet above the forest floor.

“Fan-fucking-tastic,” she grumbles, slumping for a moment. At least she’s not a felon here. The cops aren’t trying to hunt her down, which is a relief. Nor are the triads here.

She sighs, looking down. This is going to hurt.

She unbuckles her harness, and then is instantly falling, slipping out of the harness before she even realizes it, smacking into a branch on the way down and landing on her back, the air rushing out of her lungs.

Malik rolls onto her side, curling into a small ball with a pained groan, once she’s able to breathe again. “Fuck,” she whimpers, granting herself that at least.

And then she pushes herself up onto her hands and knees, grabs the tree that caused her so much pain, and hauls herself up. Leans against it, a hand wrapping around her chest, and starts to walk. The city’s to the west, she thinks, so she heads that way. She could head to her plane, but who knew how long it would take for rescue to show up. And the plane was east. She’d rather keep heading the right way, at least. Doesn’t have enough energy to commit to going the opposite direction from home.

There’s no trail, but Malik walks anyway, stepping over fallen branches and logs, marveling at how much she’s able to walk. Doesn’t hurt yet. She knows it will, soon.

Just has to get home. She’ll deal with everything else in the morning. Or in a day. She thinks she’ll need a day just to sleep. And another to start looking for a job, now that she’s lost her plane. She’s pretty sure the insurance payout won’t cover ‘two mysteriously failed engines’, or at the very least it won’t cover a new plane.  
  
So she’ll have to find some more work. All things to think about tomorrow.  
  
For now, one foot in front of the other.  
  
Which she is focusing on, up until the trees break and she’s in a clearing suddenly. Looks up, wondering where the hell this had been when she’d been parachuting down, and sees an old mansion, set just against the trees. The paint’s white, and looks old but not derelict. There’s lights on.  
  
Who the hell lives out here? There isn’t a road, not that she can see - though it could be around the other side of the house.  
  
The moon’s already rising, casting long shadows from the trees, all reaching past her, seeming to point at the house.  
  
Fuck it. Her day’s gone bad enough. How much worse could it get?  
  
She trudges up to the front door - back door? - and knocks on the old oak.  
  
Waits a few moments - it is a big house - and hears nothing. Looks for a doorbell next, but she doesn’t see one.  
  
Something feels....off. About this house. But she’s too tired to listen to the instinct, and horror movies aren’t based in reality anyway. So what is she to do, anyway? Keep walking into the dark, maybe pass out in the dirt, and wake up who-knew-when tomorrow? Yeah, not exactly a good plan.  
  
Of course, trespassing was probably a worse one. But hey. At least there was probably some food in there, maybe even painkillers if she was lucky.  
  
Malik waits a little longer. Tries knocking one more time. And gives up, trying the door handle. It opens, creaking inward, and she bites her lip, hesitating at the sudden weight of feeling like she’s making a mistake.  
  
And takes a step in.  
  
—-  
  
Ivan’s easy, smooth strides come to a startling halt as they’re walking toward the flames, and Vaclav stills when he does, looking at him in confusion.  
  
“What is it, love?” he asks. They’re no strangers to carnage, destruction. Fire and flames. And certainly not to empty husks burning to ashes.  
  
“Someone’s at the house,” he says, voice hard. Gaze distant - he must be checking the security camera feeds. Vaclav holds his hand and watches around them, eyes sharp for anything in the dark. Though it certainly doesn’t feel as dark to his supernatural eyes, honed through millenia.  
  
“Do you recognize them?” he asks, tipping his head curiously and starting to turn back for home.  
  
“No. Looks to be the pilot, judging by her clothes.” Ivan’s frowning now. “Vampire? She couldn’t be so stupid as to walk in-“ his voice cuts off in a choked sound.  
  
Apparently she’s done just that.  
  
“Well. Keep an eye on her. Let’s head back,” Vaclav says, pulling him around and turning back for home. Ivan trusts him, not quite snapping back to himself even as they start to walk. His footsteps sure, trusting Vaclav’s guidance.  
  
“What is she doing?” Vaclav asks a few minutes later, striding faster. It’s likely harmless, but one never knew. She could be a vampire, a fledling sent as sacrifice to do something. Or she could be a human, misguided. Or utterly reckless. He’s curious now, wondering.  
  
They could always eat her, but wasn’t Vaclav just complaining about a lack of anything exciting lately?  
  
“Limping. Looks like she’s hurt. Looking for something in the kitchen,” Ivan says, speeding up with him.  
  
“Ah, yes, where we keep all our secrets,” Vaclav says with a little smile. The answer was leaning further and further ‘human’ with each new description.  
  
“Human shouldn’t be stupid enough to walk in. Even they can tell we’re not something to anger.”  
  
“A hurt human is an entirely different creature,” Vaclav points out. “Their instincts shift past rationality.” Not unlike vampires. They were the same, pushed to the extreme. Unused to pain, especially the older they got. And entirely unpredictable once cornered. One might think vampires had once been human.  
  
“She’s digging through the pantry now. Looking for...what?” Ivan shakes his head, snapping back to the present. “Let’s go. We won’t learn anything else out here. Might as well hurry.” He turns to face Vaclav, arms held open.  
  
“My knight,” Vaclav says with a teasing smile, but steps into him, letting Ivan pick him up. One arm under his back, the other under his knees, and then scooping him up to his chest. “Love you,” he says, pressing a kiss to his jaw.  
  
Ivan takes a moment to smile back, looking down at him fondly. “Love you too. Let’s go see what this fool human is doing,” he says, and charges up the dash aug Vaclav built for him. A shower of golden sparks fall from his legs as he builds it up, leaning forward, almost crouching-  
  
And then he takes off, alighting only once in the next hundred feet, flying through the woods. It’s a hard aug to use, harder still in a tight, uneven space, but Ivan is a master. He’s charged the next burst before the first lands, and he touches down but once every few seconds, flinging them forward through the forest.  
  
At speed like this, it only takes a few minutes to return home, and Vaclav can already smell the traces of human scent caught in the grass. He pats Ivan’s cheek, a request to be let down as they come to a stop in the clearing.  
  
“Strange,” Vaclav says, standing on his own feet as Ivan casually uses a biocell, right up against his throat - opposite the side Vaclav first fed from him. The mark that says he belongs to him.  
  
“Suppose dinner came to us,” Ivan says with a small shrug. Though he hadn’t quite been looking forward to feeding so soon, who was he to deny a free meal? And besides, they couldn’t exactly let her live once she’d found the house. Their home. Even if she wasn’t currently affiliated with any vampires, it would be so easy for them to find the trace of one on her and force her into giving them up.  
  
Unlikely, but then so was everything. Ivan had learned never to take their safety for granted.  
  
“Maybe,” Vaclav says thoughtfully. Taking his hand and walking up the steps and into the mansion.  
  
The scent is stronger here, where she’d hesitated, or spent some time looking around. Vaclav follows the trail, through the kitchen and into the pantry, noting that everything that had been disturbed had been carefully replaced. “Either she is a spy, or she’s just polite,” he says with a soft laugh.  
  
“You think too highly of them,” Ivan says with a small huff.  
  
“You were once one of them,” Vaclav points out with a fond smile. “As was I.”  
  
“Are you sure? Some days I wonder if you were born a vampire,” Ivan teases back, a light elbow into his side.  
  
“Ha. I predate many things, but I too was human once.” Once. And not for long. He’d been young when they turned him. Used him to gather food, to lure unsuspecting humans to their camp. Or to feed, and then be fed on. At least he hadn’t been alone, but the loss of his sister millennia later hurt the more for it.  
  
“I know,” Ivan says, a little more gently. Aware he’d stirred up bad memories. Vaclav didn’t talk often of the time before he’d found Ivan and turned him. Ivan was aware that it had been a painful time for him. That he’d lost much, though outlived the bastards who hurt him. As he outlived everything. Ivan just hoped he wouldn’t outlive him. Couldn’t bear to leave Vaclav alone, to suffer by himself.  
  
“So. She’s not in the pantry, she hasn’t left anything behind,” Vaclav thinks aloud, walking further. Her trail leads away from his workshop, thankfully. And his library. Also a relief. There were plenty of things there that no human should see.  
  
“I’d guess the living room,” Ivan says, walking in front of Vaclav. As if he were the dangerous one, the elder. It’s sweet. Vaclav always smiles gently to see it. And some fell for it, unable to get a glimpse of their eyes for long enough to see the difference. Another of their defenses.  
  
“You would be right,” Vaclav says, walking down the hall and into the den. Full of couches, by a warm fire they’d left burning. The human is stretched out on the one facing the fireplace, laying on her side, an arm wrapped around herself.  
  
Ivan steps forward, the beginnings of a growl crackling low in his throat, dangerous, and Vaclav puts a hand on his chest before the sound reaches audible levels. He stills, looking to his love. Not quite confused, because Vaclav was eccentric at the best of times, but waiting for an explanation.  
  
Vaclav, for his part, shrugs. “I’m not hungry. Why don’t we treat our company as good hosts should?” He smiles crooked, toothily. If this human didn’t avoid their home, the powerful aura of danger, he wants to know why.  
  
“You can’t be serious. If she’s working for someone else?” He asks, shocked.  
  
“We’d smell it on her.”  
  
“Not if she’d gotten the instructions over the internet.”  
  
“You’d smell the lie,” he laughs softly. “Trust yourself. When has a human ever outsmarted you?”  
  
Ivan shakes his head, but concedes the point. “Fine. Play with your food, love.” It’s not biting though, his voice warm with fondness.  
  
“Thank you, I will,” Vaclav snipes back, grinning as he walks forward to the couch. And realizes why the human hadn’t responded - she’s asleep.  
  
He watches her for a moment, and then decides to wake her. If they decide she isn’t a threat, he can at least get her into a bed. Or seen to. Her injuries aren’t visible, but he can smell more. Internal bleeding, likely. That or she’s a particularly aromatic human, which he doubts.  
  
“Hello there,” he purrs, leaning over the couch, hair hanging over his face.  
  
The human’s eyes shoot open, gaze catching on his, and she starts to move. Before she’s just as quickly frozen under the piercing weight of his gaze.  
  
“Oh- shit, sorry! I’m so sorry, I tried to knock on the door, but no one was answering, and I didn’t want to actually go into your home so I went the first place I saw I could lay down,” she says quickly, sitting upright and bracing herself as he moves out of the way. An eyebrow raised in curiosity.  
  
“Is that so? The kitchen is not exactly between here and the door,” he says, his voice not quite gentle. Not quite angry.  
  
“Ah- I was hoping for painkillers,” she admits with a sheepish smile. “I’m sorry, I meant to be awake when you came back so I could explain and ask if you had a phone I could borrow- my i-link’s been on the fritz since I crashed and I can’t keep walking.”  
  
Strange. Beyond strange. Bizarre. She’s not terrified, she’s not shaking. Not looking for an escape, or unable to meet his gaze. She hasn’t even asked about his eyes.  
  
Truly a unique human. Vaclav hasn’t met many. Ivan was one such. Some others he’s befriended throughout the centuries, but none who wanted to continue into the future. And Ivan has always been enough for him. He isn’t the kind to want a coven, to need power and supplicants and fledglings to nurture. Just Ivan, to spend an eternity with. It wasn’t as if they ever tired of each other.  
  
She’s looking at him, and he realizes it’s been a moment since she asked a question. “i’m sure we could find you one,” he says easily. “how did you find our home?” The question isn’t pointed, not yet.  
  
“I have no idea,” she says with a little laugh, a hand reaching up to rub at the back of her neck. “I just started walking toward the city- or at least I think I was - and stumbled on it. Your home is beautiful,” she adds, glancing around, to Vaclav, and then to Ivan, and to the soft furnishings around.  
  
“Quite a stroke of luck,” he says, but he doesn’t push her farther. She doesn’t appear to be lying. The only thing she’s hiding is how much pain he’s in - he could see it in the stiffness she sat with.  
  
“Finally. I’ve had a shit day,” she says, shaking her head. “I really am sorry for the trouble, I waited outside for a bit but wasn’t sure when you’d be back.”  
  
She is, too. Genuinely apologetic. And Vaclav decides he doesn’t think she’s a threat. If she is, she’s been so deeply embedded in a coven that she knows exactly how to act around an ancient. And at the same time, somehow does not smell like any vampires.  
  
“It is fine. We’d gone out to see if the crash was endangering the woods, and if the fire might spread here,” he explains. They might have found her out there if she hadn’t come here.  
  
“Ah- yeah, that’s my bad. Sorry, again. I don’t know what happened. No one shot me down, but both my engines failed. She’s a good bird, she’d never have done that.”  
  
“Who is responsible for the maintenance?” Vaclav asks, curious.  
  
“Me. I am. I take care of her. She was fine when I left.” Malik shakes her head. “I don’t know.”  
  
Now this, on the other hand, could perhaps be a sign of meddling. But it seems the human has no knowledge of it.  
  
“You’re hurt,” Vaclav says, more gently. “I know a bit about first aid- let us help you. i’m sure we have something you can eat in the kitchen, as well. You’re welcome to stay the night until we can get you home,” he says.  
  
Her shoulders slump, in relief and gratitude. “Thank you. I really appreciate it. You’re the first good luck I’ve had all night.”  
  
“I don’t know about that,” Vaclav laughs, smiling sharp. He’d never categorize himself as ‘good’ luck.  
  
“Well. Unless you’re planning on eating me, I’d say you are,” she answers, grinning back.  
  
How close she is to hitting the nail on the head.  
  
“What’s your name?” he asks, and feels Ivan step closer, coming up behind him.  
  
“Malik. Faridah Malik, but my friends just call me Malik,” she explains, smiling a little.  
  
“Nice to meet you,” Vaclav answers. “I’m Vaclav. This is my husband, Ivan,” he says, tugging Ivan forward. He nods his greeting, evidently still suspicious.  
  
“Hi,” she says to them both. “I really appreciate your help. Got stuck in a tree on my way down,” she admits sheepishly. “Took a hard fall on my way out of it.”  
  
“Let me see,” Vaclav says, reaching an open hand to her.  
  
She unzips her flightsuit, letting it fall off her shoulders and pulling her arms out of it. Lifts her undershirt, showing the mottled bruising along her side, hissing softly at the movement of fabric.  
  
“It looks like you’ve bruised them at the very least.”  
  
“Not broken, I don’t think,” she agrees. “Maybe cracked.” It hurts to breathe, but not terribly.  
  
“Let’s see to you and find you somewhere more comfortable to sleep,” Vaclav answers.  
  
“This couch is pretty comfortable,” Malik admits with a laugh. “And I’ve slept on plenty.”  
  
Vaclav smiles, though he doesn’t mention that there’s dozens of beds she could just as easily sleep in. He holds his hand out and she takes it - again, fearless - and he helps pull her to standing. Gentle, careful. Remembering just how fragile humans are.  
  
Ivan’s eyes narrow at the gesture. Her skin should be crawling, she should be terrified out of her wits at the touch of a creature so ancient. but she seems fine.  
  
She has to know another ancient for her to be so comfortable around them. There’s no other way.  
  
Vaclav meets his gaze, gives him the smallest shake of his head, and guides her to the nearest bathroom. They didn’t have many first aid kits - few injuries required more than a good feed to help them along - but there should be at least one in here. Somewhere. Probably.  
  
Ivan lets them go, and leans against the back of another couch. Frowning, and pulling up the feeds again. She wasn’t lying about her infolink - the security systems picked one up, but just barely, and the number’s obscured by constant glitching. He’d certainly like to see what was on it, though.  
  
They reappear a good ten minutes later, and Vaclav looks relieved. Evidently he must have found sufficient supplies to deal with this.  
  
“Seriously, that couch is fine, I don’t want to impose upon you any more than I have,” she insists, limping out and leaning on him.  
  
“We have plenty of beds, you would not be,” Vaclav assures, though he doesn’t try to guide her astray and up the stairs.  
  
“Honestly, I prefer a couch,” she admits, laughing. “If it’s all the same to you, that is.”  
  
Ivan wonders why she insists on discomfort. Cannot help but assume an ulterior motive. But who knew. Vaclav seems insistent on ignoring any signs of danger, content in their safety. And while Ivan might disagree, he isn’t about to risk angering his love just to prove a point. If Vaclav wanted to keep the human as a pet, who was he to deny him?  
  
“Are you sure?” Vaclav asks, giving her a final chance as they approach the couch.  
  
“‘course,” she says, lowering herself down gingerly. “Thanks,” she adds, smiling a little. “I really appreciate this. How can I pay you back?”  
  
Vaclav smiles, seeming to come to the same conclusion as her. Their valuation of money varied to the extreme. “It is fine. You needed the help, and I am glad we were around to give it.”  
  
“Well. When I get a new plane, hit me up any time, I’ll give you a ride wherever you want to go. No questions asked,” she says, winking at Ivan.  
  
Vaclav laughs, the sound ethereal and beautiful. And helps her settle back down, reaching for a blanket and another pillow to give her. “Get some rest. We’ll help you get back in the morning.”  
  
Malik smiles, nods, and lays down to sleep.  
  
Vaclav walks back to Ivan, laying a hand around his waist and tugging him out of the room and toward their bedroom.  
  
“We’ll help, will we?” Ivan asks once they’re out of earshot, lips quirked up.  
  
“You don’t have to,” Vaclav laughs. “But if you want to leave me alone with the dangerous human, by all means,” he teases.  
  
Ivan huffs. “She’s too comfortable. Should have been terrified to the bone of both of us. The only explanation is she’s met another ancient before.”  
  
“Very likely. Or, she’s just a unique human without that instinctual fear,” he posits.  
  
“And you think that’s more likely the truth than the former,” Ivan asks in disbelief.  
  
Vaclav shrugs. “If she knows an ancient, they’re either trying to probe and see if we have any weaknesses, or are sending a message. If she doesn’t, she’s an intertesting human I’d like to get to know.”  
  
“You want to befriend her,” Ivan asks in disbelief.  
  
“What’s the harm? It’s been a long time since I’ve made a human friend,” Vaclav laughs.  
  
Ivan shakes his head. “Every day, I think I understand you less,” he says. It’s fond, though, and he turns to press his husband into the wall, kissing him long and heavy. A reminder of what he has for him, right here. And a release of all the nerves he’s had staying on guard this evening.  
  
Vaclav is more than happy to oblige.  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is this au exploding out of control and spiralling into a full-blown fic? Maybe..... it's gonna stay disjointed little story bits though, unless I really lose my hold on it LOL. 
> 
> Lemme know what you think! And if you want more vampires lol


	4. Revelations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adam's hunting plan goes awry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oops, more vampires! Where was all this last month, huh??? anyway, enjoy <3

  
They see the human off the next morning, and Ivan shakes his head as he’s enlisted to drive them back. Picks the least nice vehicle they have, and uses that one to get her back to the city. She doesn’t need to know about the entire underground garage full of luxury cars that Ivan keeps, for the hell of it.  
  
Vaclav allows him that, and smiles gratefully when they drop her off. “Thank you, love,” he says, once Ivan turns them for home.  
  
“Are you sure that was the right choice?” Ivan asks, reaching a hand over to set on Vaclav’s thigh, guiding them back home.  
  
“A life spent in fear of danger is a life misspent,” Vaclav points out. “And there isn’t a force out there that could take the both of us together.”  
  
“That’s not what I’m worried about,” Ivan says, sighing softly.  
  
“I know. But I think she’s alright. Genuinely.” Which is strange, for many reasons. “Do you think she even realized we’re not human?”  
  
“She had to, didn’t she?” Ivan asks, astounded.  
  
“If she did, she didn’t ask, or make any pointed statements, or stare.”  
  
“So she probably already knew,” Ivan says, repeating himself from last night.  
  
“Perhaps. I’m leaning toward the opposite. And if that’s the case, she’d make an interesting friend.”  
  
“If you say so,” Ivan sighs. “I’ll be wary for the both of us, if you refuse to.”  
  
“That’s not necessary, love,” Vaclav says, setting his hand over Ivan’s. Squeezing it lightly.  
  
“No, it isn’t. But I do it nonetheless,” he answers.  
  
Vaclav smiles softly, taking Ivan’s hand and lifting it, pressing his lips to the back of his knuckles. “I know. I love you,” he says. “And, since you’ve put up with my eccentricities this last night, you’ve earned yourself a reward when we get back.”  
  
“Oh?” Ivan asks, though he’s determined to not be so easily bribed.  
  
“You can have me, any way you like. While feeding,” Vaclav says, his breath rushing hot over the back of Ivan’s hand.  
  
“Is that so.” Ivan can’t help the way he responds to the words, the warmth against his alloy hand.  
  
Vaclav grins, sharp and victorious. “It is. In my workshop? Or the ballroom? I have some toys we’ve yet to test.”  
  
Ivan puffs out an exhale, hot and heavy. His shorts already feel tight. “Fine. You win,” he says. Vaclav laughs, and Ivan’s gaze flashes to him, predatory and sharp.  
  
Vaclav grins right back. “Well. All we need is to get home, then.”  
  
And if they broke more than a few laws to get there, no one was the wiser.  
  
———-  
  
Malik takes a few weeks to get better, and a few more sending out her resume. Looking for work, anyone who will let her fly for them without having to supply her own plane.  
  
She stays leery of shipping companies, knowing that the last thing she needs is to get sucked into another underground crime ring, but if she gets desperate she supposes she has options.  
  
She starts to think she’s going to need to take them up on that, when she finally gets a response from something interesting. Sarif Industries, a chance to actually fly for a purpose - or so they say. For all she knows, she could end up ferrying augmentation deliveries. But at least the promised pay is good, and they have their own planes.  
  
That’s all she needs, to go and show up to the interview.  
  
Her skill speaks for itself, too. They hire her on the spot, and she ends up in the roster of pilots. Her skill puts her at the top of the roster, even as a new hire, and the senior pilots aren’t happy with her about it. But she’s never gotten where she was by bowing back for lesser men, and she isn’t about to start now.  
  
And if it means she makes more friends with the employees she flies around the city than with the other pilots, so be it. They tend to be more interesting, anyway.  
  
Which is how she gets to know one Adam Jensen, head of security. A serious guy, ex-SWAT, who seems to carry a lot more weight on his shoulders than a corporate security chief should. She doesn’t pry though, and she gets the feeling he appreciates that. He’s funny, too, when he lets himself be.  
  
So when the company’s attacked, and he’s caught in the middle of it, she actually feels terrible for him. Tries to visit while he’s in the hospital, but they don’t let her. So she sends him chocolate and coffee shop gift cards, and hopes to hear from him when he gets back to work.  
  
Things quiet down there, and her forest-mansion friends actually reach out once, for a ride to the California coast. They tell her they’ll find their own way back, and she leaves them to their date with a smile. They’re strange, sure, but she’s met far weirder people. So she doesn’t question it.

Hell, why should she be surprised that the man who lives with his husband in the middle of a forest has a penchant for dark contact lenses? She’s seen neon eyes on augs in the city, so pitch black wasn’t that far out of the realm of normal. And Malik tries not to question too hard the kindness of strangers.

A few months later, certainly not long enough, Malik gets word that Adam’s coming back to work. She’s got to fly him somewhere, something to do with the investigation of the attack. She’s told in not so many words that there might be discreet information uncovered, and she’s being implicitly trusted to handle it, and Jensen. Bring him back safe, because the last thing the company needed was to lose more people.

Which makes her wonder exactly what they’re being sent into.

She finds out, when Adam walks up to her, augged to the teeth, and looking…tired. When she greets him and he brushes her off, a bit of a snap to his words.

She can’t blame him. Shot and hurt terribly in the attack, and returning with augs he didn’t sign up for? Not to mention the usual adjustment period for an augmented limb was at least four months – he’d gotten all of them and he’s back before the third month was up? She’s sure it still hurts.

And they have to go and deal with a hostage situation. She doesn’t envy him that, though she tries to be there for him, much as she can. And as much as he’s willing to accept.

“Let me know if you wanna get coffee after? It’s been a while since we’ve had a chance to catch up,” she says.

Adam gives her a tired smile. “We’ll see how this mission goes.”

There’s something of an apology in his voice, even though she can’t see his eyes.

“Sure,” she answers with a little smile. “Works for me. You ready to go?”

He nods, and climbs up into her bird, letting her buckle in and take off.

\---

That mission goes fine. As does the next, and the next. Soon she’s assigned to be Jensen’s personal pilot as he goes whatever investigating he’s supposed to do into the attack on Sarif. She doesn’t mind it, except for the fact that they seem to be getting more dangerous. Adam comes back with more dents in his armor, his arms, than not. Sometimes coming out hot, bullets pinging her bird as she drops wherever she can to get him out of the line of fire.

The strange part is, often, Adam seems _less_ tired after a particularly harrowing mission, not more. She’d worry about that, and an itching voice at the back of her head spews anti-aug rhetoric she’s read online, but she knows better. Knows that isn’t Adam.

She doesn’t ask, until one day he comes back without a single bullet fired. Sneaking into the plane like he’s in pain, and almost slinking to the back. “Let’s go,” he says roughly, a hand over his face, like he’s fighting back a migraine.

“Are you okay? What happened?”

“Fine,” he answers roughly.

So abrupt, so jarring from how he’s been these past weeks, that she can’t help but take notice. So she trusts her instincts, unbuckles herself, and climbs out of her seat and into the back of the plane. “I don’t need a CASIE to know you’re lying,” she says gently, coming back to his side.

He seems to almost- recoil from her. The closer she gets, the more his shoulders bunch up. Which isn’t like Adam at all.

“Malik- I’m fine. Just. Get us back before they notice I’ve been there.” His voice is strained, and he doesn’t look at her.

“You’re hurt,” she says, searching for blood. For a torn bit of his coat. For something.

“Nothing you can help with,” he says, teeth gritted and hidden behind his hand.

“Try me,” she fires back, standing up. “I’ve got a kickass first-aid kit,” she adds, a little teasing. Worried. It’s unlike Adam to hide something from her. She reaches up, unlatching a ceiling-adjacent compartment to open it and dig into it for the kit at the back. And must be distracted too, because her wrist catches on the edge of the latch. She only notices that she’s cut herself when the pain flicks up, and pulls her hand back with a soft, “damn. Guess I need the kit too,” she laughs.

Adam doesn’t respond, and when she looks at him he has his whole hand clamped over his nose and mouth, and she can’t see his eyes behind his shields. His shoulders are bunched hard, tense like he’s waiting for bullets to start flying.

“Adam-?” she asks, reaching slowly for him.

“_Don’t_,” he snarls, and his voice drops deeper than she thought it could.

She backs up, just half a step, hands up placatingly. “It’s okay, Adam. You can tell me.”

“Can’t,” he says, his voice catching.

She can’t help but notice, though, the way his whole body seems to follow the movement of her wrist, the blood beading on her skin.

“Adam, please. Let me help you. I don’t like to see you in pain,” she says gently, moving to sit on the ground in front of him.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he says, pained.

“I don’t understand,” she says softly, watching him carefully. Doing her best to read his expression, hidden as it is.

“I’m not hurt. I’m just-“ he hesitates.

Malik doesn’t say anything, waiting patiently. Not pushing him to trust her with this, just letting him have the time to decide for himself.

“Hungry,” he admits quietly. Almost inaudibly.

“What?” she asks, stilling.

“Well. Thirsty,” he corrects, and his eyeshields pull back. His gaze caught on hers, pained and earnest. He’s not lying.

“I get the feeling you don’t mean for water,” Malik says slowly.

He shakes his head. “No. I- Mal, I need you to get back.”

He’s trusted her with this, even though she doesn’t understand, so she scoots back a little bit.

And then she realizes how much Adam’s leaning into the wall, cornered and trying to get away from her.

“Tell me what you need, Adam,” she asks gently.

“I can’t ask that of you-“

“Let me be the judge of that,” Malik says firmly. Enough of this dancing around the point. She was capable of deciding what was too much to ask of her.

Adam’s gaze drops to the floor, and then immediately snaps back to her bleeding wrist. He looks ashamed, and can’t quite open his mouth to speak.

Malik’s eyes widen, and she can’t possibly be seeing what she thinks she is, right? She lifts the hand, moving it out to the side. Watches his gaze follow, and then she holds her arm out to him.

“Are you trying to tell me you’re thirsty for _blood_?” she asks, and can’t quite keep the laugh out of her voice.

Adam just groans and drops his head into the hand over his mouth. “Mal. Please- it’s bad enough we’re in a tight space. That smell- I don’t know how long I can hold myself back.”

It really is hurting him. Malik decides she’ll deal with how insane this all sounds, _later_. When Adam isn’t so clearly in agony.

“so don’t,” she says gently, laying her legs out in front of her and holding her wrist out to him. An offering.

His gaze snaps up to hers, staring in outright shock. “Malik-“

“Adam. Come on. You’re the one who said we couldn’t be caught here, right?” she asks, a small quirk of her lips upward.

And then he’s no longer sitting still, surging forward and grasping her arm. His touch is so gentle, in contrast to how fast he’s moving. Flinging himself at her, centering on the point of blood at her wrist. “I’m sorry-“ he breathes, before setting his lips to the cut and parting them.

Malik stares. Can’t help it. Is that a poke of a canine she’s seeing? It’s far too long-

And then he _licks_ her, and she startles, her hand twitching at the ticklish warmth. “Seriously-?” she laughs, even as his gaze drags up to hers.

Looking downright embarrassed. She’d never expect to see an expression like that on _Adam Jensen _of all people.

“Sorry,” she says, pulling back the laughter. “you’re not a vampire or something, are you?” she asks, still laughing. It’s absurd. Maybe she fell asleep in her chair waiting for Adam to come back.

“Mh-“ he answers, not lifting his head.

“No way,” she says, because that wasn’t a _no_.

He stills, and then pulls her wrist away from his face for a moment. Flashes a chagrined expression, showing his teeth. Bloody, and- and _fanged_.

“I’m asleep, aren’t I,” she says, staring at him.

“I wish,” Adam says with a soft sigh. But he looks less in agony.

And she’s not bleeding anymore, either.

“you’re a vampire. For real. They exist,” she breathes.

“Yes. Yeah. And yes.” He says, his tongue poking out to run over his lips, making sure there’s no trace left. “Sorry- about that. I’d have rather you didn’t find out. Especially like that.”

She laughs, shaking her head in awe. “Like I said. I didn’t like seeing you in pain. How come this has only just come up now?” she asks, pulling the kit down and reaching for a bandaid.

Adam grimaces. “I usually find sustenance on these.”

“Oh. _Oh_. No shots fired,” she realizes, putting the pieces together.

“Yeah. I don’t like to hurt people. But if they’ve already shot at me-“

“Then they’re fair game,” she finishes for him. “Just how old _are_ you?” she asks. All the clichés of every bad vampire romance novel she’s read coming to her.

“Just under 250,” Adam answers, glancing away.

“Holy shit,” she says. Looking him up and down, re-evaluating. “But if you’re a vampire, why keep a job?”

Adam huffs, almost amused. “Electricity isn’t exactly intimidated into working by sharp teeth.”

“You don’t have a hoard of treasure?”

“I’m not one of those, no.”

“one of what?”

“Those elder vampires you’re imagining, the kind that feature in books.”

“I have. _So_ many questions.”

“Least I can do for you is answer them,” Adam says. “On the flight back?”

Oh. Right. They’re still in enemy territory.

“Yeah. Good call. You’re alright now?”

“I am.” It won’t last him long, but she doesn’t know that. “Let’s go.”

She nods, offering him a hand up and getting back into her pilot’s seat, buckling in and getting ready to fly them home. Sooner, rather than later.

Glancing over at him. He’s still Adam, just…has more about him than she knew. She’s curious to find out. Wonders if he’ll let her.

She certainly hopes so.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mal's crazy and I love her. She's got such a ride-or-die approach to the people she cares about, on top of a healthy dose of recklessness LOL.


	5. Full of Surprises

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Malik learns a lot about her fanged friend(s)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I get burnt out on phoenix I come to this au, and it helps a lot, haha
> 
> ....I've also been playing a bit of Vampyr.

The flight back is enlightening, though she’s sure Adam’s annoyed with all the inane questions by the end. Ranging everywhere from whether the garlic rumor was true to how often he needed to feed. Malik comes out of it knowing a lot more than she thought possible going in, and when they land she just exhales slowly. “Thanks, Adam,” she says with a little smile. “For telling me all of that.”

“It’s the least I could do,” Adam replies. “I was…pushing it back there.”

“On the thirst?” Malik asks, killing the engines slowly, and idly running through her post-flight checklist. Not actually looking at it – she knows it well enough already.

“Yeah. I was relying on finding someone on that mission.”

“Well, in the future, you can come to me,” she says. “And then I can finally tell the blood bank off for sending me mail less than a week after I’ve donated,” she adds, laughing. “Always thought they were the real vampires around.” It was a favorite conspiracy of hers to go into, especially after a drink or two. What was a blood donation truck but a food truck for vampires? Now that she knows vampires are real, she’s only more convinced.

Adam looks at her, a little shocked. “Malik, I couldn’t-“

“What would you do, then. Eat rats? Better to go to someone you know doesn’t mind than jump a stranger in an alley, right?”

Adam doesn’t answer for a moment, which means she’s right. She thinks.

“Seriously. I don’t mind. It didn’t hurt, and it’s not like you could turn me like that, right? I trust you not to take too much.”

“Lot of faith you’re putting in someone you just discovered is a monster,” Adam answers drily.

“You’re still the Adam I know. Just older than I thought,” she fires back.

“Lot of things you don’t know about me,” he replies. Almost like he’s determined to prove her wrong.

“And yet, I trust you anyway. Prove me wrong, I dare you,” she says, laughing.

There’s no one on the helipad yet, which is a surprise. Usually Adam’s missions resulted in someone coming here to greet him, or nag him.

“You are something else, Malik,” Adam says, shaking his head.

She grins. “Life would be boring if I was like everyone else, wouldn’t it?” She unlocks the side doors, powering down the plane the rest of the way. She’ll need to get into it later, make sure it really didn’t take any damage. Always does after these not-so-legal missions.

“I wouldn’t know,” Adam answers, with a little bit of a sad smile.

Malik supposes any life he remembers would have been so far removed from what the world looked like today that he wouldn’t remember being normal, no.

“Hey, speaking of, is there anyone else like you at Sarif?” she asks, curious.

“If there were, it wouldn’t be my place to say,” Adam answers easily. “Really, the usual rules would dictate I should’ve killed you for finding out.”

“Good for me you’re not like anyone else too, huh?” she asks, smiling gently. Doesn’t pry any further – if there are any other vampires, either she’ll find out or she doesn’t work close enough to them. She wonders how common the…affliction is. Or if it’s rare, and Adam’s the only one in the state. The country? It couldn’t be that rare, right?

…so maybe she has more questions.

Too bad there wasn’t a monster encyclopedia she could turn to and know for a fact it would be the truth. That would just be too easy, wouldn’t it.

\---

So Malik’s coworker is a vampire, and her search history is full of a lot more 3am rabbit holes on a slew of sites that all insist monsters are real. Plenty of them have a lot of nonsense that Adam has debunked for her already, but she realizes that she forgot to ask how he functions in the sunlight. Sure it was often rainy in Detroit, but she’s seen him out and about before. Eventually she decides it’s the coat that does it.

She ends up being right, which she finds out on the next flight she’s sent with him to go on. The investigation into the attack is taking longer than expected, or at least that’s the feeling she gets from Sarif, but Malik isn’t surprised. Some evidence was bound to go unfortunately missing or shot full of holes with the kind of defenses the other companies had.

And they have to lie low every once in a while, and stop digging or else be caught by corporations just as hungry for the competition. Especially considering that Adam was consistently waltzing in with Sarif’s military-grade tech attached to him.

Which means that Malik’s left with free time, and she finds herself starting to spend it with her new friends just outside the city limits. It was somewhat inevitable – one didn’t just spend a night after crash-landing in someone’s home and never speak to them again. Especially after they were so kind to her.

She remembers seeing the sparsely empty kitchen, despite its size, and decides that she should bring them a dessert to thank them. She makes baklava, the way she learned to during those long summers on her uncle’s ranch, and keeps it all in the big dish she made it in.

Malik wonders if she’s being presumptuous. It’s one thing to bring a neighbor a small thank-you dish, but to drive across town and into the forest?

Still, her instinct tells her it’s the right thing to do, so she heads out that afternoon, in the opposite direction of the city’s traffic, in her old car. She used to own a modded, beaten up thing she’d street-race with, but ever since she started flying, her car mattered little. It just had to work enough to get her to her landing pad.

And run errands. Like this one.

She made sure to note where they lived, even though her Infolink hadn’t been working, and finds herself driving up the long dirt road at dusk.

She stops at the front of the house, hesitating. As if it isn’t too late now. She’s sure they have some kind of security, though it has to be passive since she didn’t hear it the last time she was here. She lifts the still warm dish and walks up to the front door, ringing the doorbell with a slow exhale.

Nothing happens for a while. And then eventually the door opens, and Ivan is standing there, looking only mildly surprised to see her.

“Malik, this is unexpected,” he says evenly.

Malik smiles. “I just wanted to thank you both for what you did for me that day, and I thought I’d bring you some dessert I made,” she says, holding up the aluminum-covered dish with an expression that, on someone else, would be shy.

Ivan smiles back, a gentler expression than she’s seen on him thus far. “Why don’t you come in? I’m sure Vaclav will be happy to see you,” he says, stepping back and opening the door wider.

Malik grins, and steps in, following his lead to the kitchen.

“Is that a coffee dessert or a tea dessert?” he asks, striding across the big tiled space to the bar.

“Either, your preference,” Malik says. “I’d go tea, personally.”

“I’ll make both, then,” Ivan answers with a little smile.

“I hope I didn’t catch you at a bad time,” she adds, setting the dish on the high counter. “I figured if you weren’t home I’d just leave a note,” she laughs.

“We tend to be home most of the time,” Ivan replies with a mysterious smile.

Malik finds herself curious. They seem younger than her, but at the same time…not? And they own a huge mansion without appearing to work, but she doesn’t recognize Vaclav or Ivan as numbering among the world’s super rich. But it would be rude to question a couple that had been so kind to her. And hadn’t interrogated her on her own crash, either.

Vaclav comes out then, tipping his head and grinning at Malik. “Hey, Malik,” he says, walking over with an arm outstretched for hers. “What brings you here? You didn’t crash another plane in the woods, did you?”

“No, no, nothing like that,” she laughs. “I promise, I’m a much better pilot than you’d think.” Considering their one experience of her came with a great ball of fire. “I brought you a little homemade dessert to thank you for your kindness.”

“Oh! You needn’t have,” he says, though he’s moving immediately to take a look at it, peeling the corner of the foil up eagerly.

She grins at that, watching his reaction to her food. “Maybe not, but it’s the least I could do. I’ll still give you a ride, anytime, but. Yeah.”

Ivan turns around with a mug of coffee that he presses into Vaclav’s hand, and is rewarded for the thoughtfulness with a kiss to his cheek.

“Well, it is nice to see you again, and a little less injured at that,” Vaclav replies with a smile. Though something seems to pass through his gaze as he looks over her.

She laughs. “I’m mostly better now. Ribs are doing fine, and it’s back to work for me.”

“Still flying? Or was that a hobby plane?” he asks, as the kettle behind him comes to a boil. Which he looks surprised about, turning back to see it.

“Yes, love, we own a kettle,” Ivan says, laughing.

“This is news to me,” Vaclav tells Malik, though he’s smiling too.

“Oh, I didn’t mean to make you brew me tea,” she tells Ivan quickly.

“It’s no trouble,” Ivan replies. “It isn’t often we get guests,” he adds. “Let alone unannounced ones.”

“Yes, it does seem you might be outside the route of the regular door-to-door salespeople,” Malik laughs.

“Something like that,” Ivan replies, bringing a trio of small plates out for the dessert. Vaclav has already peeled open the dish, and maybe dragged an alloy finger along the edge, licking it to taste the sauce.

“It’s better with the pastry,” Malik says, though it makes her warm to see him already enjoying it and eager to try.

“It is even rarer than guests that we get dessert brought to us,” Vaclav explains, pulling out a knife and cutting into the baklava. 

“Well, it’s my pleasure. I’d be happy to make this a habit,” she says, a silent invitation, an…offer, of friendship. “this isn’t the only dessert I can make, but it is one of my favorites.”

Vaclav smiles, something unreadable in his gaze. “That might be quite nice,” he says, and he sounds far too amused for his own good.

She doesn’t notice anything really off while they eat, sitting across from them and passing small-talk, discussing hobbies. Malik finds out Vaclav loves books, and they go on a tangent for a good half hour on them.

It’s only as they’re finishing off a second round of dessert and coffee that Malik sits back, blinking.

“You’re vampires,” she realizes.

Both Ivan and Vaclav stiffen, gazes snapping to her.

Malik meets their gazes right back, and realizes in their sudden calculating sharpness that she’s right. And notices in the same moment how quickly the warmth in their expressions has shifted to analysis and an almost predatory glint.  
  
Their eyes aren’t red, but then, neither are Adam’s. Though he has augs. She wonders suddenly if his natural eyes are red, or if that’s just a myth too. Of course, now is probably not the time to be thinking about Adam’s eyes...  
  
“You didn’t know,” Vaclav muses, as Ivan sets down his mug, striding closer toward her.  
  
“No, I- I had no idea. I just assumed you were a tech billionaire I’d never heard of,” she says with a little laugh. The hairs on the back of her neck stand on end at the clack of Ivan’s leg on the tile, coming closer. Though she’s suddenly aware there’s not all that much she could do, really.  
  
“Well. You’re not too far off there,” Vaclav says, and he doesn’t appear near as...ready to spring. “So you know another vampire, but they did not send you here.”  
  
“What- no, why would they send me here?” she asks, looking at them both.  
  
Ivan stills, frowning. Evidently deciding she’s not lying to them.  
  
“Many reasons. Yet you are not afraid, either.” Vaclav leans forward, tipping his head, curious. A small smirk, showing just a peek of- of fang at the corner of his lip.  
  
“Should I be?” Malik asks carefully, taking a sip of her tea. Making certain not to move too quickly.  
  
“Most would be. Most wouldn’t have approached this house,” Ivan points out.  
  
“Yes, we do tend to have an intimidating...aura, shall we say.” Vaclav doesn’t seem to be moving though, and he’s closer to her.  
  
Malik thinks that, maybe, she hasn’t just signed herself up to be dinner. Though she couldn’t quite be sure.

“I mean, creepy house in the middle of the woods, late at night? Sure. But I didn’t have many options, it’s not like you’re at the end of a busy cul-de-sac,” she laughs.

Vaclav laughs too, and Ivan seems surprised at the sound. “No, we are not. You are a curious human.”

Malik grins. “Is that a nice way of saying I’m too reckless for my own good?”

“Perhaps just reckless enough,” Ivan muses.

She looks between the two of them. Has no idea what they’re thinking, except that she is maybe going to live to see another day. Maybe even a few, if she’s lucky.

Ivan seems to take pity on her. “Vaclav does not often befriend humans, but when he does, they are like you.”

“Like me?” she asks, surprised. Sitting up a little straighter.

“Unique. Interesting. Do not ask me what drives him to it,” he says with a sharp laugh.

Vaclav laughs too. “Don’t ask me either. But your gesture is a kind one, and I think I like you.”

“Thank you? I think,” Malik says, smiling. “Wait- but you ate my dessert. _And_ had coffee.” How did she come to the conclusion they were vampires anyway, when she watched them eat?

“Much the same as ice cream for you. It isn’t nourishment or necessity, but fully enjoyable. Which is why our kitchen is so sparse. We only keep that which we really enjoy.”

Malik laughs, rubbing a hand at the back of her neck. “I thought I’d bake something for you because your kitchen seemed empty and thought you’d like something fresh.”

Vaclav grins, a flash of warmth in his eyes. Which are…very dark, now that she looks. She thinks they’re augs, probably. Hasn’t ever seen eyes that dark before. And then realizes she’s staring, so she glances away. “You are the first human to ever bring me a cooked meal, of any kind,” he says.

“It’s only right,” Malik answers, her instinct to be humble warring with her instinct to not downplay her own actions. Each a strong force in its own right.

“Well, I’ll look forward to seeing more of you,” he says, rising and moving to get himself more coffee.

Malik grins, relaxing now. “Me too. I’ll bring something different next time,” she says.

Vaclav laughs. “Unnecessary, but appreciated nonetheless.”

He seems as curious with her as she is with him. Malik restrains herself from asking any questions that would be too prodding. Maybe another time. She gets the feeling it’s as rude to ask a vampire how old they are as it is any adult. Perhaps even more so.

She doesn’t know a thing about vampire politics.

More studying seems to be in her future.

\---

Everything changes, and nothing changes.

So Malik’s befriended a few more vampires. She thinks she’s hit her quota, and they don’t seem interested in feeding on her, so she more or less ignores the fact that they’re immortal, and definitely older than her. Vaclav certainly doesn’t act like it, and Ivan only seems to out of necessity. Because Vaclav won’t, perhaps?

Either way, she likes the time she gets to spend with them, on her few days off. Always brings them something fresh and delicious, though most of the time not made by her. Regardless, they seem to enjoy it, and she likewise enjoys having friends that have nothing to do with her work. A rare thing, these days.

She barely notices the weeks passing, now. Punctuated mostly by Adam’s missions, the ones that only she flies him to. It’s another such one, all recon, that she doesn’t hear a single shot fired. And he can’t bring himself to hurt anyone, not in the office buildings he’s ransacking for the next target, the next file that might hold evidence of the attack on Sarif.

He comes back successful, but frowning. Almost grumpy.

“Hungry, huh?” Malik asks, leaning around the seat to greet him as he climbs in.

“I’m fine,” he grumbles, coming in and sitting down in the back, pulling the ramp closed behind him with a flick of the switch.

“You don’t sound fine to me,” she says, taking off anyway. “I need to refuel anyway,” she adds, a bit of a grin.

“Malik-“

“I meant it. Even skipped my usual blood bank donation,” she answers. “And it would be such a waste for me to not help you, when I _can_.”

“you’re crazy, you know that?” Adam asks, dragging a hand over his face.

“What, you’re not going to kill me,” Malik answers confidently.

“And you know that, how.”

“Well, for one, I’m your ride home. For another, I’d like to think we’re friends,” she laughs.

“And what makes you think I have a say in the matter?”

“You told me yourself, when we were playing a hundred and thirty-seven questions. That you don’t have to kill someone to feed off them.” Just that it was easier. Kept loose ends tied.

Adam huffs. “I don’t recall that.”

“I did blitz you with a lot that time,” she laughs, only a little self-consciously. “But seriously. We’ll be stopped for at least twenty minutes to get fuel. No one’ll notice any extra delay. Unless you’d like me to order a pizza so you can have at the delivery person.”

“Alright- alright, fine,” he says, and she grins victoriously.

Malik flies them straight to the shadiest fueling stop she knows, right on the border, and almost certainly gang-owned _and_ run. Lands with an easy drop onto the pad, unbuckling herself and popping open the fuel tank, getting her bird set up.

“Get yourself comfortable,” she says in passing, before stepping out and paying with her i-link, grabbing the hose and inserting it. Twisting it until it latches, and then coming back into the bird, closing the door. It’s chilly outside - that’s her excuse, and she’s sticking with it.

“Malik, are you absolutely-“

“Yup. Stop asking, I’m not going to change my mind,” she says, laughing as she drops to sit across from him. “So is this a…you don’t _need_ to do the whole ‘neck bite’ thing, right? My flight suit might sit high but I’d rather not look like I’m hiding a hickey or anything,” she says, and laughs as Adam’s expression twists. She’d almost say the man was _blushing_.

As if Adam Jensen blushed.

“No- no, that’s not necessary. Any good vein will do.”

“Oh, good,” Malik replies, and pulls back the Velcro at her sleeve, rolling it up her right arm. Leaving her wrist exposed. “Is this enough?”

“…yes.” Adam’s staring at her arm, gaze flicking up to her every other moment. Wondering, and stuck. Like he so badly wants to take her hand, and at the same time can’t help but feel terrible about it.

“Adam. I’d much rather help you than donate my blood to some vampire food truck on its grocery run,” she says gently.

He sputters, gaze snapping up to her, the spell broke at her ridiculous phrasing. “you _what_-“

She laughs, standing up and crossing the cargo hold to sit beside him, arm held out. If he wouldn’t come to her, she’d go to him.

“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” he mutters to himself.

“Consider it a small favor. Like changing a flat tire for a friend.” She says. Doesn’t get why it’s so much more a big deal to him than to her. Really, shouldn’t it be the other way around? But then, she was proven to be wild.

“Fine. But I’m buying you dinner after,” Adam says with a heavy sigh.

She notices his gaze hasn’t left her wrist since she’s come close. She doesn’t comment though, knows how uncomfortable he already is with the idea. He must be hungry. Thirsty? Hungry? She’s not sure which it is. Can’t remember if he told her.

“Deal,” she says with a grin, offering up her wrist.

He shakes his head at her, but takes it, lifting her arm gently and pulling it close to his lips. Glances up at her one more time, before steeling himself. Parting his lips and letting her see the glint of his fangs in the dim cargo bay. Malik can’t help the way her heart races at the sight of them, the gentle tenderness with which he sets his lips to her skin.

She feels the soft heat of an exhale against her skin, and bites her lip self-consciously. And then he sets his fangs to her skin, light, and suddenly- they sink in, sharp and neat. She doesn’t even gasp; the prick of pain quickly subsides to a soft warmth, numb, and she watches in awe. As he takes a slow, deliberate drag.

“oh,” she breathes, and his gaze snaps up to her, as if checking if she wants him to stop. “No- no, it’s okay. I just- didn’t know what to expect,” she explains.

He makes some soft sound against her skin, and it sounds a little…pained, and pleased, in one. Malik doesn’t hold it against him, holding still as he cups her wrist, his other hand moving idly, thumb stroking over her palm. She’s mesmerized, watching him in awe. Barely breathing, enraptured, stuck perfectly in this moment.

She doesn’t know how long it’s been, until she suddenly hears the fuel hose click, shutting off, and the ship gets quiet. Adam seems to snap back to himself too, and he pulls back, only a little quickly, releasing her. And then pausing, pressing his tongue to the wound, and stilling for a moment.

When he pulls away, she’s not bleeding.

“H…uh.”

Adam covers his mouth for a moment, before pulling his hand away. Exhaling, slow and heavy. And seeming a lot more centered suddenly. “Malik- I…”

“Don’t worry about it,” she says with a soft smile. “At all. Please. I’d rather you didn’t,” she laughs a little.

Adam’s jaw works for a moment, but he doesn’t say anything, shaking his head. “You’re serious,” he says, realizing it. Finally.

“I am,” she says, pulling her sleeve back down. “I’m glad to help.”

“...thank you, Malik,” he says finally.

“Any time. Shall we head back?” she asks. Strapping her sleeve back tight, realizing she’s a little cold suddenly. She’ll maybe turn up the heater once they take off. And hope he doesn’t notice. He’d feel guilty, she’s sure.

“Yeah. Let’s,” he says, straightening up. Looking a lot more himself now. Refreshed.

Good.

\---   
  
The flight back passes without incident, and Malik’s pretty sure he didn’t notice her turning on the heaters. She’s looking forward to stopping for a snack when they get there, even if Adam insists on paying for it. It’s a nice gesture, at least.  
  
She coasts them back to Sarif headquarters, landing just before the sun starts to come up. She stretches, yawning as the plane cools down, engines calming after a long burn. “Another successful mission.” she says, unbuckling and turning to smile at him.  
  
He doesn’t quite return the expression, but he’s a far sight from the sullen mood he was in before. “I have to report to Sarif, but it shouldn’t take long. Wait for me? I owe you...breakfast?”  
  
She laughs. “Go ahead. I’m in no hurry. Breakfast or dinner, whatever.” She could eat breakfast food for dinner too. It didn’t really matter.  
  
“Choose a place. I’ll meet you in the lobby in twenty minutes,” he says, and sweeps out of the plane, as smoothly as a shadow. She wonders if that grace comes from the augs or from his other nature. Maybe both. Ivan certainly seems to carry an otherworldly grace to him, the way he stands poised on those sprinter blades.  
  
“See you,” she calls after him, and sets to shutting her plane down, leaving it on the pad. She has to be back later today to take Sarif to a meeting anyway, so no one will mind that she’s hogging the spot.  
  
Or if they do, they can take it up with the boss.  
  
—-  
  
Their breakfast outing feels different than their usual 3am diner rushes, from before she knew. Or their coffee stops, snuck into a refuel time break. Not in an excessively weird way, but enough that she notices.  
  
Malik is, by nature, very adaptable. She just figures it’ll take him some time to get used to the fact that she doesn’t feel revulsion towards him, or fear, or anything else. the way she sees it, he’s pulled her out of some very tight spots, and if his vampirism is part of the reason he was able to, then she owes her life to that part of him too.  
  
Besides, she’s never been all that judgmental anyway. He doesn’t seem to be playing up to the trope of blindly murdering everything in sight in a hunger-induced rage, so she’s inclined to give him the benefit of the doubt. Especially with how uncertain he was about taking from her, even.  
  
And with every new vampire she gets to know - like the pair in the woods - she’s learning more. And that most of them knew how to survive undetected in modern society - a feat with the cameras posted up all around these days. She imagines the ones that don’t are the reason there’s so much monster-truth fuel on the web.  
  
“So, sun doesn’t bother you?” she asks as her coffee is delivered into her waiting hands, which she wraps around the warm mug, pulling it close just to inhale it for a moment.  
  
“It’s not pleasant, but it’s worse when we’re hungry. Certainly won’t kill us,” he explains with a shrug.  
  
“So the coat is a style choice instead of a preventative measure,” she teases.  
  
“bit of both,” he admits with a shrug, taking the sweet latte with his name on it after it’s been set down on the counter.  
  
Malik laughs, reaching for her warmed pastry and taking a bite out of it. “Fair enough. Well, I don’t want to keep you any longer than’s necessary. I should head back, anyway.”  
  
“To work?” he asks, an eyebrow raised. “You just flew across the ocean.”  
  
“Sarif’s got a meeting, and everyone else is busy.” She shrugs, taking another bite. “I’ll just take a nap in my office,” she adds, laughing.  
  
Adam shakes his head. “Tell Sarif to call a cab next time,” he says, with a quirk up of his lips. They both know that’s a pipe dream of an answer.  
  
“I’ll be fine after a few more of these,” Malik replies, hefting the mug up and toasting his paper cup with the lid of hers, grinning at him.  
  
“Whatever you say, Mal. Just don’t fly too close to the buildings.”  
  
“I’ll keep legal distance,” she laughs, turning to step out of the coffee shop and back into the quiet street. Still too early for anyone to be awake except people like them, and the few trudging home who hadn’t yet gone to sleep.

He walks with her back to Sarif, before peeling off on his own way. If he pulls up the collar of his coat a little more on his way away, she doesn’t mention it.

“See you,” she calls after him. “Thanks for feeding me,” she adds with a warm laugh. He doesn’t answer, though his lips quirk up.

She’ll call that a victory.

\---

It doesn’t occur to her to tell her new friends about the other vampires she knows. She got the idea from Adam that it was, more or less, a secret who else was a vampire. If they knew each other, then it was fine, but it wasn’t her place to tell them about the others. Though he also said something about knowing, when they were in the presence of each other? So she doesn’t exactly understand, but from what she’s gotten so far, many etiquette rules didn’t seem to make any overt sense.

So when she shows up a few days later to Ivan and Vaclav’s place, bearing coffees from a local café by her apartment, she’s already forgotten about letting Adam feed from her. And the chilly weather has her wearing long sleeves anyway, a nice warm sweater she can curl up in.

She knocks on the door, holding the coffee carrier in her other hand, watching the way the fog rolls through the trees around them. The way it caresses the tree branches, slipping through. She’s reminded again, how strange this should feel. How creepy. But it’s hard to think so when she knows how warm the two who live here are. Just another strike against her sanity, probably.

It’s as she’s musing that she hears the door open behind her, and she turns, smiling warmly at Ivan. And then stilling at the expression on his face. The way his smile shifts to a deep, hard frown. He opens his mouth to say something, and then shakes his head, holding the door open for her and stepping back. “Come on in.”

“Did something happen?” she asks, stepping in cautiously. He’s never acted like this before, even if she’s only known them for a little while.

“I should be asking you that,” he says, shutting the door and locking it, guiding her toward the sitting room.

“What?”

Vaclav is at the sitting room between one blink and the next, gaze narrowed. As soon as he spots her, he’s at her side. Ivan takes the coffees from her while Vaclav gently takes her wrist and pushes her sleeve up just a touch. “Malik…who did this?” he asks, his voice quiet, soft. Looking slowly up at her.

“Oh- oh! It’s. It’s okay, really,” she says, reaching to pull her sleeve down. Vaclav doesn’t let go, though, nostrils flaring in just the slightest as he stares at the bite mark.

“Who would _dare_,” he mutters to himself, finally releasing her hand.

“What? I offered,” she says, frowning. Confused.

“You _offered_?” Ivan asks, setting the coffees down.

“I- yeah. They’re a friend of mine, and they were hungry, so-“

“No one in their right mind would dare to feed off you,” Ivan says, an eyebrow raised. “Or they shouldn’t.”

“Why? I don’t understand,” she says, pulling her sleeve down and subconsciously reaching for the coffees again, to offer them. Try to reinstate what she knows to be normal.

“Because you befriended us. And visit us regularly. There should be some lingering…”

“_scent_?” she asks, astonished.

“Not quite, but…similar. They should know you are affiliated with other vampires and not touch you.”

“Well- I mean, that’s a good thing, I guess, but. Like I said, I offered. To my friend, so they wouldn’t have to hunt down some person they didn’t want to.”

Vaclav blinks. “Generally the humans who offer themselves to vampires seek…something in exchange.”

“Why don’t I like the sound of that,” Malik asks carefully, handing them their coffees before they get too cold.

Vaclav shrugs. “It depends on the human. Most enjoy sexual favors for their freely given meals.”

Malik makes a face. “no, thank you. I like my deal just fine. Good breakfast after is all I need.”

Ivan’s lips quirk up, amused. “You’re certain, that you offered this. You didn’t let them get close, murmur something in your ear?”

“What? What do you mean? Like…charm me?”

“Yes. Exactly that. It’s not difficult, especially if the human is already not antagonistic,” he explains. “You call them your friend. It would be simple to charm you with a word, and once you are bitten, the feeling alone is enough to keep you there.”

It _did_ feel good, but Malik is more than certain he didn’t do any such thing. “No, they didn’t want to feed from me. I had to convince them, with a _few_ attempts.”

Vaclav exhales. “Fine. I take you at your word. But this does bring to bear the fact that you are perhaps not as safe as we thought.”

Malik blinks in surprise. They want her to be safe? She knew they were friends, but to go so far as to make an effort at it?

“It is one thing to offer to a friend. It is another for someone else to think that you are a free meal,” Vaclav insists.

“And…what are you implying I do?” she asks carefully.

Vaclav shakes his head. “Not much. Carrying some small trinket of ours should do the trick.”

“What, like ward people away?”

“Yes. They’ll know it belongs to someone they cannot afford to anger.”

“That…sounds like a lot of effort just for me,” she says. Less the trinket and more the threat, that…they would _want_ to carry something out like that.

Vaclav smiles. “It is not often I make human friends. I would like to see that you are kept safe. Please, do this for my sake?” He even pouts.

Malik puffs out a sigh. “How can I refuse that face?” she asks, laughing.

Ivan grins. “Your guess is as good as mine. I still have not discovered how to.”

“Alright, alright. I’ll take it. Whatever it is.”

Vaclav shrugs. “It can be anything. Something I spend a lot of time around. Perhaps a piece from my workshop? Would you be averse to a bolt on a necklace or a bracelet.”

Malik shakes her head. “don’t see why not, as long as it’s small enough to not get in my way.”

“It won’t be,” he says, and turns away. Vanishes almost faster than eyesight can follow, and comes back just as quickly with a leather strap and a piece of metal. Loops it through and offers it to her. “Here. Just keep this with you, and it should protect you.”

“Thank you, Vaclav. That’s kind of you,” she says, wrapping it around her wrist, over the bite marks, and tying it off one-handed. “Your coffee will go cold if you don’t drink it,” she points out with a small smile.

He seems to remember he’s holding it, and takes a sip, waving her to have a seat so they can actually catch up. The tension bleeds out of the room, and Malik relaxes, glad she understands what the issue was now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you thought! Maybe if you're lucky I'll get another phoenix chapter out soon c;


	6. Breaking Point

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s too good to last.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i dIIIIID IT i finished nano and I won for the first time in four yeaRS. I’m gonna go curl up and not write for a month but!!! Enjoy another vampire chapter at least, hehe

The next time Malik sees Adam, he freezes in place. Looking like he’s been struck, and the reaction is strange enough that she abandons wherever she was headed to walk toward him.

He looks like he’s debating backing away, but she’s on him before he can make that choice, and pulls him into an empty conference room, shutting the door behind them. As soon as they’re in he jerks out of her grip and takes a few steps back.

“Adam- what the hell’s gotten into you?” she asks, stunned.

He looks…terrified.

“Mal- Malik, what the fuck aren’t you telling me.”

“What? What are you talking about?” she frowns, lost. Doesn’t understand what’s set him off – she hasn’t _done_ anything since she’s last seen him.

His nostrils flare wide, and he takes another step back. “You know _ancients_? And you- you let me _feed_ on you?!”

“I- I don’t understand what you’re talking about,” she says, putting her hands up placatingly.

“you’re carrying something of theirs. Something old, that feels as old as _they are.” _

She stiffens, straightening. “You mean this?” she asks, pulling her sleeve back to show the bracelet with the little hex nut on it.

“_Yes_ that. Why didn’t you tell me? I’d never have-“

“I didn’t realize it was an iss- wait. _Ancients_? What does that mean?”

“Elders, Malik. _Very _old. Think millennia,” he says, and he looks ready to bolt. Searching for exits or an escape, or something.

She blinks, surprised. “They…that can’t be. They don’t seem old.”

“Trust me, Malik. They’re old. Older than anything I’ve felt before.”

“They’re like you, though,” she says, hoping to reassure him.

“What, like me-“ Adam shakes his head, with a huff. “No, to them _I’m_ a baby.”

“they’re nice, like you are,” she laughs.

“I have to apologize,” he says, slowly.

“What, to me?”

“No. To them.”

“for what.” Malik’s eyes narrow, her hands settling slowly on her hips. Like she instinctually knows she’s about to be upset with his answer.

“For harming you, when you belong to-“

“I don’t _belong_ to anyone, Adam,” she snaps, annoyed that her instinct was right.

He exhales heavily. “That…is not how they will see it. But fine. Under their protection,” he clarifies.

“I told them, just like I told you, I _offered_.” And if anyone thinks they can own her just because their canines are sharper than hers-

“Still. If I want to keep my head attached, I need to apologize,” he says carefully.

“They wouldn’t. But I’m happy to introduce you,” she says, relenting just a bit. “I won’t let them hurt you for something _I _let you do. More or less told you to do.”

“Malik, you won’t have much of a choice.”

“If they’re putting this much effort into keeping me safe, I should have a say in who they _don’t_ eviscerate.” She says, and that’s that. “I’ll take you this weekend, if you’re free?”

Adam sighs heavily, running an alloy hand over his face, the contrast of black and gold to his skin a sharp one. “Alright. Sure. This weekend.”

Malik smiles a little at that, relaxing. “It won’t be your last. And we can go out for coffee after.” Seems like all the vampires she knows still very much like caffeine. A quirk – or maybe they like alcohol too. She wonders. Just another thing to add to her list of questions she still needs to ask someday.

\---

Saturday comes soon enough, and Malik drives up to Adam’s apartment to pick him up. No other way to get there, though she realizes belatedly that she doesn’t know if he even has a car. Some part of her would guess he doesn’t, but that’s not exactly something she could easily ask.

He’s stiff the whole ride over, and seems to tense up even more somehow as they get closer.

“You’ve been here before?” she asks, because that reaction looks like it came entirely from experience, from memory.

“No- like _fuck_ I’d come here,” Adam insists, shaking his head. “I know better.”

Malik exhales. “They’re not that bad, I promise.”

Adam shakes his head. “not the point. There’s _rules_ with elders and I don’t _know_ them.”

“What do you mean?” she asks, but he doesn’t answer as she rounds the bend, the house appearing through the trees. She glances over him at the silence, and he looks almost like he’s trying to force himself to meld with the seat of the car.

She hides the smile at that, parking in front of the house and turning off the car.

“Come on. It’ll be okay.”

“Not sure about that,” he says, but he unbuckles himself with visible effort.

“I won’t let them hurt you,” she reassures, stepping out of the car. Waits for him to come out too, a moment later, and then walks for the front door. She knows Adam would just repeat that she might not have a choice, but she refuses to accept that she has no agency in this. If they want to be her friend, then they won’t hurt her other friend.

Ivan opens the door before she even knocks, an eyebrow raised.

“You brought company.”

“Yeah, your trinket worked,” she says, with a wry little smile. “He wanted to come meet you.”

“Malik-“ Adam sounds pained, and she glances back over her shoulder to see him bowing deeply. “Honored Elder, I’ve come to beg your forgiveness. I did not know she was under your protection, and I regret Taking from her.”

“_Hey_. You didn’t take shit, I _gave_ it to you,” Malik insists, interrupting him before he can keep going. It doesn’t sit right with her, watching Adam _Jensen_, who didn’t fear anything, bow and beg. Especially from Ivan, who didn’t seem all that dangerous to her.

“I am not the one you should be apologizing to. That would be my husband. Come in.” Ivan steps back, and Malik doesn’t think. She reaches for Adam’s hand, and he stiffens straight, gaze snapping to her – she can feel the weight of it, even behind those shades.

She gives him a little reassuring smile. A silent _I’ve got you_.

And leads him into the lion’s den.

Vaclav is waiting in the sitting room, the maze full of couches where she’d first slept the night. And the way he lounges on a long couch, she’d almost say it looks like he’s sitting on a throne. She’s never seen him do such theatrics, and this is the first time she’s seen him do anything remotely like _posturing_.

Malik doesn’t hesitate, though she’s almost _dragging_ Adam through the room at this point.

And then he lets go of her hand, striding ahead of her and dropping to his knees before Vaclav. Palms flat on the floor, staring at his knees. “Your Eminence, please forgive me. I did not know she was yours, or I would have never fed from her. I can only hope that you will consider mercy for me.”

Vaclav appears _bored_, and Malik wonders how common displays like this are.

He takes a moment too long to answer, and she decides enough is enough. “Alright. You’ve apologized. For something that _I_ did. I offered to feed him, and I _will again_.”

Adam chokes a noise, wordless and strangled, and Malik moves to stand in between him and Vaclav.

“It’s not harm if I consent, and if you’re my friends you won’t try and punish someone I care about just because you feel like it,” she says, staring Vaclav down, hands on her hips.

Silence hangs for a moment longer.

And then Vaclav bursts out laughing. “Of course, it’s fine. You may stand,” he says, waving dismissively at Adam. “It’s been a long time since anyone’s scolded me,” he says, smiling warmly at Malik.

She’s not quite sure what just happened, so her stance is still a little combative, but she relaxes a touch. “…Good. I wouldn’t be able to call you my friends if you tried to restrict my behavior,” she says, glancing back to make sure Adam’s straightening.

He seems just as confused, lifting his head as the eyeshields snap back, looking between her and Vaclav. “I…don’t understand,” he says quietly, before thinking better of it.

“A friend of Malik’s is safe here,” Vaclav explains. “Also, ‘Eminence’? Who taught you that?” he asks, an eyebrow curled sharply in amusement and surprise.

“…No one,” Adam admits.

“What?”

“I- I didn’t know what to say.”

“Your sire should have taught you manners,” Vaclav says. It’s not accusatory, just calm.

“I don’t know my sire,” Adam says, glancing away.

“Ah. You have done well to live this long, then,” Vaclav says, a soft realization. “Most abandoned don’t last long without an understanding of etiquette.”

“I tend to keep away from other vampires,” Adam explains.

“A challenge, these days,” Vaclav concedes. “When were you made?”

“1775,” Adam answers. “I’m told many were, for the war.”

“You were made to fight the in the Revolution here. As another body, one made stronger?”

“Yes.”

“A shame. Doubtless your sire made many like you. Presumably, they are no longer around, either.”

“I don’t know.”

“You’ve never felt…_called_? From your soul, pulling you in a direction?”

“no, I haven’t,” he answers.

Vaclav nods. “Well. You will not get much farther with such lacking knowledge. If you are curious, we would be happy to teach you,” he says, glancing back to Ivan.

Malik does too, in time to see somewhat of an incredulous _we would?_ Expression cross his face. She smiles, but doesn’t comment.

“I- would be very grateful,” Adam says carefully. “What- should I call you?” He seems to keep almost adding some kind of epithet to his words.

“Vaclav is fine,” he answers. “My husband back there is Ivan. And you are?”

“Adam Jensen. Adam.”

“Well. Welcome to our home, Adam.”

\---

Adam can’t seem to get out of there fast enough. As soon as he can reasonably make an escape, he does. And Malik follows, waving a cheery goodbye as she hops in the car, too. As far as she’s concerned, it’s all sorted now, and Adam is on the shortlist of people they’re not planning on hurting for being close to her.

And she’s made herself clear - they don’t get to supersede her own desires. She’s glad at least they understand that. 

So, all in all, a win for her. She’s not sure Adam feels the same. Except he’s still alive, and he was definitely sure he wouldn’t be by now.

“So, coffee?” she asks, as they get back into her car and she pulls away from the house.

“...Sure.” Adam’s staring at her now, and she wonders what that look is for. 

“What is it?” 

“You just told off an ancient.”

Her eyebrow curls, curious. “I told off a friend for presuming he could make decisions about me, yes.” 

“A friend that is at least two thousand years old. Very likely more.” He seems stuck on that part, unable to process past it.

“So what? If he can’t respect me as a friend, then we aren’t really friends, are we. So I’m glad we got that sorted out.”

“...You are something else, Malik,” he says, shaking his head, snapping out of it a little the further they get from the mansion.

“I pride myself on that,” she says, laughing. “Got a particular spot you want to go to, or do you want to try something new?”

“What makes you think I haven’t tried all the coffee shops in the city?” he asks, amused.

“Good point, fair enough. Still doesn’t answer my question.”

“If you can find somewhere I’ve never been, I’d be curious to see it.”

“Oh, you’re on.”

—- 

Life goes on, though Malik notices that Adam is keeping himself hungry for longer and longer at a time. She offers, helps him out when she can. And when she asks him what’s going on, he tells here there’s a local group of vampire hunters that have been particularly active lately. They’re more than a match for him, especially in numbers, and he’s keen on staying alive, so he’s been ‘dieting’.

Or lightly starving himself, to be more accurate.

Malik decides she’s not going to accept that, not with what it’s doing to his mood, so she offers herself up whenever she notices he needs it. It’s always the same rush as the first time, and she can’t quite explain it. It’s not adrenaline, not quite, but it *is* a rush. And every time, he’s so careful to bite over the same spot as before. Like he doesn’t want to leave any trace further than he absolutely has to.

It’s really quite sweet.

And she’s more than happy to do it, anyway. It’s hardly an inconvenience for a friend. She’d be doing the same if someone she cared about needed constant blood transfusions. This is more or less the same as that, to her. 

As the weather gets warmer, she starts wearing shorter sleeves, and barely spares it a thought. Her bracelet from Vaclav covers up the faint bite marks most of the time, anyway, and she presumes it shouldn’t be an issue. Adam doesn’t tell her as much, but he also doesn’t seem to notice. Or maybe he does, and he also doesn’t want to infringe on her freedom. Which, good. She’s glad she doesn’t have to give out that particular lesson twice.

So she’s entirely minding her business when she’s walking home one day, during the pretty dusk hours, and contemplating taking a detour through the nearby park. Just to have a leisurely stroll, let the warm breeze settle over her arms. 

It’s when she decides to do just that, that someone bumps into her, shoulder-checking her hard. She pivots around in surprise, the motion carrying her to face whoever wasn’t paying any sort of attention to what they were doing- 

When someone else shoves her into a wall from behind, pulling both of her arms behind her back.

“We’ve got one,” the one holding her says.

“Let _go!”_ she snarls, twisting around in their grip.

“I don’t see any bite marks on her neck...” another muses, from a little further back.

The one pinning her pulls her wrist up, twisting it around and evidently showing it to someone behind them. “See. Think they’re getting smart, but they’re just getting reckless.”

“Ha. If they wanted to hide, they should do it somewhere we can’t see in passing,” he snorts. 

If they want to talk about her like she’s not here, fine. She lashes out, kicking back hard. Her heel impacts with someone’s shin, and they spit a curse. That’s all the opening Malik needs, and she lurches backwards, throwing her weight into her assailant. 

They stumble back, and she whirls, taking stock of the situation. The one she’d kicked is quickly regaining his balance, and the other one is reaching for a weapon in his waistband. There might be more, though she can’t see them from here. It’s been a long time since she’s been in a fistfight, and they have weapons. But like fuck is she going to take this lying down. 

“If you have something to say, say it to my face,” she growls, and steps into the one that had been holding her, throwing a punch for his nose. 

He leans back, too fast, and dodges out of the way. “Feisty, this one,” he says, whipping out a knife. “But we can’t just let a feeder roam free,” he adds with a shrug.

“The fuck are you talking about?” she asks, mostly hoping to stall. She doesn’t know where she can go, but maybe she can-

...She doesn’t know. Call Adam? He’s the only one who might be close enough.

She sends a ping to his infolink, hoping he’ll answer. 

“Those marks on your wrist. You’re a vampire’s bitch, and we don’t let that stand. You’re coming with us,” he says, and lunges forward, grabbing her shirt and shoving her into the wall. Her head cracks back against it, and she loses all grasp of consciousness.

—- 

She wakes up with a massive, pounding headache, and it takes her a little while to come to grips with that. Trying to piece together what happened just hurts, and she tries to sit up and roll out of bed-

Except she’s not _in_ bed. Her arms are twisted behind her back, shackled together, and she’s propped up against a wall. She blinks her eyes open, slowly, and the light hanging above her pierces straight into her brain.

She regrets it, but she opens them further. Needs to know what the hell is going on.

“Oh, nice of you to join us,” a man says - she doesn’t recognize him - as he paces back and forth. Slowly, lazily. A big fuck-all blade in his hand. She wouldnt call it a machete. Looks more like a butcher’s knife. 

She wonders, idly, why that thought makes a cold shiver shoot through her. 

“Since your leech hasn’t come to find you yet, we’re going to make it a little easier for him. Call it a hint,” he says, walking closer to her. 

“What?” she asks, groaning a bit as she lifts her head to meet his gaze. The cold, calculating intent there reminds her all too much of the triads she escaped from. 

“You’re a regular. Feed a leech more than once, clearly of your own volition. Which means he’s probably attached to you, but he hasn’t come looking for you yet. So we’ll make it easier for him to catch a scent, hm?” He walks closer and closer as he speaks, finishing with a crouch in front of her, the knife gleaming in the low light. 

She doesn’t like the sound of that. “Fuck off. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, but you do. Not only do you have consistent bite marks, you’ve got a trinket,” he says, holding up a string- with her bracelet on it. The one Vaclav gave her. 

That sight alone is enough to piss her right the fuck off. Even if it’s just a bolt on a string, it _means_ something. To her. To them. And certainly not to these fuckers. But she’s also very aware that if she makes that clear, they might very well react poorly. And they’re armed, and she’s, well...quite literally unarmed. Since they’re behind her back and all.

“My bracelet. The thing I made at home because I was bored?” she’s always been pretty good at bluffing, at least as far as she knew.

“Right. The one that reeks of vampire, that even we can tell? If you got this from _home,_ then this will make everything easier,” he says, tossing the bracelet aside. “We’ll just have to make your scent a little stronger.”

She’s about to ask what the hell that means, but he answers the question. Hefts the knife up, and her eyes widen in fear. She lashes out with a kick, but he’s not the only one here, and her chances of fighting her way out of this are even slimmer than they were in that alley. 

He laughs, and she realizes she has no idea who these people even are, as he grabs her leg and slams the knife down. 

She sees bone, and her head spins so hard that the headache beats her back into unconsciousness. Blissfully, maybe. 

—- 

The next time she wakes up, she almost doesn’t expect to. She’s cold, and there’s a lancing agony from her leg up through her whole body. The first thing she does is let the nausea do its shit, which is make her throw up on the ground beside her.

And then she tries to open her eyes again, and regrets that too. Her legs...don’t match anymore. 

Mostly because one is missing from above the knee. 

“th’fuck?” she manages, rasping. Her throat’s dry as a bone, and- well. Maybe the bloodloss has to do with the dehydration. She doesn’t know. She’s never _been_ through catastrophic limb loss before. 

“Your leech won’t be able to miss the bait we’ve left for him.” 

“You used my leg as _bait-?”_ Her words come out slurred, but she’s sure the meaning is clear.

He grins, sharp and predatory. She decides she doesn’t like that look on his face. “Right into a silver-filled trap. Your leech is done for. And hey, if you’re lucky, we’ll catch him fast enough that we can come back and give you a tourniquet. Maybe you’ll even survive this.”

“ffffuck you,” she manages.

“Or maybe you won’t. Guess we’ll find out.” He shrugs, standing up and turning to leave.

He seems to walk a really long distance before a door shuts, and she lays her head back against the wall. And then decides fuck it, and just lets herself fall over onto her side. It’s cold, but at least she’s not upright anymore. And she has the good luck to fall on the side she didn’t barf on, so...that’s a win. 

She doesn’t know how long she lays like that for. It gets colder. Darker. At some point she decides to just let her eyes rest. It’s easier that way.

Until someone is leaning over her, a hand on her arm, shaking her. 

“-alik. *Malik*-“ the voice is saying, pitched with concern. Fear?

“Muh?” she asks, her eyes blinking open, slowly. Heavily. Barely.

_“Fuck,_ Malik, I’m so-“ he chokes off, and she realizes she recognizes him. That’s...a first, in the last two times she’s been conscious. She thinks. Was it only two? 

“Adam,” she says, a wide smile blooming on her face. 

“Malik- I don’t. You’re-“ 

“Cold,” she agrees, so relieved to see him. He makes such a nice sight, especially considering how the rest of her night has been going.

“-dying,” he says, kneeling down beside her and pulling her head into his lap. 

“nnah,” she says, though it’s nice to not have her head on the ground anymore. “s’fine. Just gotta sleep it off.” Like any bad headache.

“Malik...you can’t sleep off losing your leg.” 

Her eyes open, slow and heavy, and she sees his hand hovering over her head, like he’d been about to brush her hair back. 

“watch me,” she challenges, slumping into him. At least she’s not here alone, anymore. “hey- where’d the other...people go?” 

“They’re dealt with,” Adam says, his voice strained. 

“‘re you hurt?” she asks, craning her head back a little farther to see.

“No- no, Malik, I’m okay.” 

“They said s’mthing about silver,” she continues, frowning.

“I’m alright. They almost got me, but...your friends showed up.”

“Who?” her head lolls to the side, looking for anyone else.

“They’re coming, Mal. They’ll-“ he stops. He looks like he wants to say something. Promise something. But he doesn’t.

She opens her mouth to ask who, again, but suddenly the room is a bit fuller. Or at least the space right around her is. Two people on either side, kneeling down by her, and it takes her a moment for her vision to focus. Leg hurts, now that Adam told her about it. Thanks a lot, Adam. 

“heyyy, how’d you find me?” she asks Ivan and Vaclav, relaxing again. 

“It was...quite difficult *not* to, Malik. I can smell you from the forest.”

“Hey. I showered this morning,” she huffs.

Vaclav frowns, heavily, and tips his head to take Adam’s place. Adam all but scrambles to obey, gently lifting Malik’s head and setting her back into the ancient’s lap. Ivan grabs his arm and drags him off, and she looks up at Vaclav, a reassuring smile on her face.

“‘s gonna be okay, V,” she says, her hands settled over her stomach as he gently shifts aside her short hair. 

“I should be the one telling _you_ that,” he sighs. 

“Where’d Adam go?” she asks, though she tilts into his touch. 

“Ivan is speaking with him,” Vaclav answers her, gently.

“What about?” Since when does Ivan talk to Adam? Or Adam even want to be near them?

“You, Faridah. I....have everything I need in life in my husband. I am not looking to grow my coven. But if you want to survive this, and if Adam is willing, he could turn you.”

“Turn me? I can roll over jus’ fine,” she says, frowning.

“Into a vampire, babe.” 

“Hwuh?”

“We weren’t fast enough. You’ve lost too much blood. We’re lucky you’re even awake still,” he says, his voice tight. “I- I was enjoying getting to know you. If you’d like to stick around for longer, we can instruct Adam on this. If you don’t, I will understand. Though I do not look forward to saying goodbye.”

“I- oh.” Her voice comes out small. “I’m...really dying?”

“Yes. I’m sorry we couldn’t keep you safe.” There’s a weight to his words. Like he’s said them before.

“but you- you’d want me to stay?” 

“Of course.”

“Thought you liked me because I was a weird human. Wouldn’t that just make me a normal vampire?” She’s not sure how much of that came out slurred, or if he even understands what she’s talking about.

“I like *you*, Malik. You’re an interesting person. The world would be dimmer for losing you so soon.”

“tha’s nice,” she says, smiling a little, to herself. 

Vaclav exhales, though he doesn’t say anything more. He looks away from her, and she wonders if it looks that bad. Follows his gaze, though slower, and sees Ivan and Adam talking. Ivan has a hand on Adam’s arm, and Adam doesn’t even look like he’s contemplating shoving himself in the farthest corner away from the ancients. 

Well. It’s nice to see that progress, at least. She’s glad for that much. Maybe they can be friends now, too.

She doesn’t get much farther on that thought, as they start to come over again. Ivan meets Vaclav’s gaze, but she doesn’t know what it means. Or if they’re saying something to each other. They’ve both got infolinks, they don’t need mysterious glances to communicate with each other. 

“Missed ya,” she tells them, though mostly Adam, as they come back. 

Adam makes some kind of choked noise at the back of his throat. 

He kneels down beside her, a hand reaching for hers. For the one he’s been feeding from these past few months. His thumb traces over the bite marks. “This is my fault,” he says, quietly. “But- I...Malik, I didn’t get a choice. I woke up a vampire.” He looks like he wanted to say another word instead. “But- if you want it...I. I can turn you.” He doesn’t say ‘save her’. Plenty called the curse of vampirisim worse than death, and that eternal damnation was all that awaited them when they did finally expire. 

“do...you want to?” she asks, gaze catching on his and holding it. “You’d be stuck with me, foreeeever.”

Adam’s lip twists. “I don’t know about _stuck,_ but. Malik, I- I care about you. A lot. If you want to stick around- yeah. Yeah I want to make sure you do.” 

She smiles, at that. A dopey, warm thing. “Care about you too. ‘f I didn’t, I wouldn’t have kept offering.” 

“Is...that a yes? I need you to be very clear,” he says, squeezing her wrist gently. Like he’s afraid of her floating off before she can give him an answer.

Actually, that maybe is a pretty well-founded fear. She’s finding it harder and harder to keep up with what she’s being asked, and Vaclav’s hands are warm on her scalp. A soft calling to go to sleep, where the stabbing fire in her leg can’t follow her. 

“huh?” she asks, a minute later, realizing belatedly that she was supposed to say something. Or respond to something? She’s not quite sure.

“Malik.” He reaches up, and cups her cheek. His hand seems to fit there, and she tilts into the touch. The comfort. “Do you want to be a vampire?”

“yeah, sure, why not?” she asks, grinning slow and warm. 

He exhales in a puff. “Last chance. You’re positive.”

“Startin’ to sound like you don’ wanna,” she says, frowning. One might call it pouting.

“No, I just. I need to be sure this is what you want.”

“don’ wanna die. So yeah. Yeah, hit me,” she says, glancing between Adam and Vaclav. 

Vaclav nods to Adam, and Ivan looms nearby on those sprinter blades, turned so he can watch them and the door both, just in case any belated reinforcements came. They wouldn’t. Shouldn’t. But one never knew with hunter vermin.

“Not a hit. I’m going to bite you. Then you’re going to bite me, okay?” 

“y’know my teeth aren’t that sharp, right?” she asks, frowning. 

“I’ll help you. Okay? I’ve got you.” 

“mmkay. Trust you,” she says, tilting a little further into his touch. Baring her throat for him. That’s how this was supposed to work, right? She’d seen Ivan’s mark, right up against his pulse point. She hasn’t actually looked for Adam’s, afraid that would be prying. 

Wonders why that’s where she drew the line, after all the other random and personal question’s she’s asked. 

Instinct, maybe. Usually kept her out of trouble. Except this time. But then, what could she expect? That her good ol’ instinct, formed out of millennia of evolution, would know about vampires? That’s just unfair. She’s grateful it’s kept her out of danger this long. And even with the supernatural, she’s picked good vampires to trust, or at least she thinks so. They’ve always been good to her. 

Adam swallows hard, seeming to brace himself. And then he leans in, a hand sliding around her back, the other cupping the back of her head, and pulling her up off of Vaclav’s lap. “Mal- this is going to hurt.”

“Can’t hurt more’n the knife,” she fires back.

Ivan snarls, low and dangerous, stalking away from them for a moment. 

“Let’s hope not,” Adam says, and doesn’t hesitate any longer. He pulls her close and hovers just above burying his face in the crook of her neck. Breathes in slow, and then sets his lips to the point of her pulse. 

Some distant part of her says she should probably be finding this a little weird, with Vaclav right there, and the cold floor. Weird details to latch on. But then, she’d always find this sort of thing weird, probably.

...Maybe not so much with Adam?

Huh. 

And she promptly loses that train of thought as his fangs sink into her skin, a small flicker of sharp pressure before it sinks into numbness and the muted bliss that always floats through her when he feeds. 

She sighs, relaxing into his arms, not noticing how everything feels colder. How her hand slips out of her lap and onto the concrete. How the silence seems to grow, or maybe the cotton in her ears is sprouting. Her pounding headache slows, the beat easing. 

Her eyes flutter, and she thinks that maybe _now_ she’s allowed to sleep? Can she?

But just as she starts to drift off, the hand on the back of her head squeezes, and the sweet fangs pull out of her neck. “Your turn, Mal,” Adam says, his voice tight. With worry? Fear? 

That doesn’t sound right.

“mhh. how?” she asks, the words an effort. She feels cold all over. It’s leeching into her bones, into every slow, heavy breath she takes.

She blinks her eyes open when he doesn’t answer, and that, too, is an effort. Just in time to see Adam crane his head and sink his fangs into his own shoulder. He pulls back at a bit of an angle, tearing a wound open. And then pulls her close to him, into his lap now, helping her find the source of he blood and put her lips to it. 

When did he take his shirt off?

She can’t continue the thought, because from that moment to the next, her lips are pressed to his skin - and when would she have _ever_ done that, huh, Malik? - and she tastes the smooth, rich, coppery blood. And just as suddenly, she can’t even consider stopping, drinking long and heady. 

Each swallow makes her feel warmer, and warmer, and then she’s on fire, burning from the inside out, from the center of her ribcage to her toes and her leg, and she makes a pained sound. Tries to pull away, instinctually knowing that what she’s drinking is doing this to her, and Adam’s hand holds her there. Thumb stroking over her scalp, somewhat apologetically. 

“Not yet, Mal,” he says quietly, into her ear. “Keep going. You need it.” 

She keeps drinking, and then the burn moves to her mouth, to her teeth, to her _canines._ She groans against his skin, trying to twist away. His grip eases a little, or _gives,_ maybe, as she strains harder. 

“Almost there.” He looks up past her, and she hears- no, _feels_ other footsteps behind her.

“You lost a lot of blood, Malik. I’m going to have you feed from me, too,” the voice says, and she realizes a moment later it’s Ivan. It sounds...deeper, somehow.

She makes a confused sound against Adam’s skin, since she can’t exactly go anywhere.

“It will help you heal. It is a risk- our blood is enought to drive a younger vampire insane. But you need it, and we will ensure you recover.”

She wants to say, to ask, _from insanity?!_ but words are a little beyond her at the moment. so she doesn’t answer, until Adam’s grip slips from her head, falling to her back. 

And then Ivan is there, a hand gently pulling her back, and then gripping her jaw. “Come,” he says, angling her head for the side that doesn’t carry his bite scar. 

Malik’s eyes widen, and she inhales sharply at the smell. The need, the hunger coursing through her. She doesn’t hesitate, sinking her fangs into the spot where his neck meets his shoulder, and takes a heady pull. 

If Adam’s blood tasted good, Ivan’s is divine. Smooth and silky, and she can’t quite stop the noise she makes as she drinks.

And just as soon as she started, he pulls her off, gripping her jaw hard enough to make her release. “Enough. There you go,” he says, gently. 

Vaclav moves close then, and pulls her into a hug, arms wrapping around her. She clings back, a little disoriented, a little lost. Aching - the pain is still there, as is her headache. But they feel both sharper and smaller at the same time. Which is strange, but. She’s been through stranger. She thinks. 

“We’ve got you. You’re safe. We won’t let anyone hurt you like that again,” he murmurs, holding her close. 

“Thanks,” she says, smiling warm. 

No one notices her eyes. Instead of the bright candy red they should be, they’re instead glimmering, like the facets of a ruby. 

They’re just glad she’s okay. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can’t believe i wrote 50k words between this and phoenix over the past month and i’m so excited to sleep.....
> 
> hahA let me know how y’all liked it! <3


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